~A Harmless Phantasy~

[Dryl]

Silently, against the sky
my empty shell alone did fly.
Electrical, flowered and fleet,
I left the world beneath my feet,
but, older things were lurking there,
and as I scampered on the Air,
a whim of one such drew me down
onto the Earth's unyielding ground,
to pluck a blossom, foolish flower,
helpless and seduced by power,
to lose so quickly and completely
what in losing sang so sweetly,
transfixed in fire and washed in rain
to suckle sweetly, or scream! Insane,
I clasped him to me, heedless sin,
and let the eldritch lover in.

The night did twitch, the fervor burgeoned,
my wraith left me, no more a virgin,
to puzzle through a kindled hunger,
and though I am smaller, younger,
I cast my seeds into the crowd,
enveloped all in sooty cloud,
and sowed their dreams with coiled things,
and planted such gifts as that madness brings.
My memory was cut and hidden,
my loss of maidenhead unbidden,
yet, in dream the rent is riven.
I shall return that he has given
me a hundredfold. My spawn
will rise, en masse, and blot the dawn.

poem ©2009 by the author
image "Larval Ghosts" ©2009 by Krispin Harker, used by permission

[Carmilla DeLioncourt]

i really really like this. idk what it's about but i'll go back (after i get some sleep) and read it again. don't tell me! i like the mysterious-ness of this! lol hmm..maybe i'll post some of the poems i wrote through out high school. i always say/warn/inform people before they read them that they are very jim morrison style poetry. but post more! this is really good!

[Audrey]

That is really good!

[Dryl]

thank you very much - it is so vital and thrilling to receive praise and encouragement;

i like to write descriptively of things that are not defined, so that the points of contact between your dreams and mine are as wide and receptive as possible;
it makes the impossible things seem perhaps more conveyable, so to speak;
my writing is archaic and mostly rooted in symbols and attitudes that are long gone,
but perhaps on some level i see myself as attempting to preserve something precious for people to come after me; hopefully they will be better writers than I and will be able to take visions and prose - like Hawthorne's, Bierce's, Bronte's, Poe's - forward into mores and settings that I cannot fathom or predict

[Emerian Rich]

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