The Goddess in Me

Its not the curse, or the anger

Or the days when you pull off your hair

And scream, that invites his bad omen.

But the lone hours you spent

near the river with a sea inside.

The silence you fall into,

like the disheveled stare of insanity

and the many moons you lose to other worlds

that mark his roads to Byzantium.


I feel the goddess in red, on my nerves

On those days of calm after a storm

When I sit down and count his sins

like an eagle with its eye on the chicks below.


The seeds of sorrow sprout a poison tree

Spreading shades of blue, on his body

Like the nerves of a city at night.

The male god no more holds the blue,

Nor does he survive the storm before the first rain.


She, my goddess of strangled desire,

awaits his part in the cosmic drama.

As the story of the betrayed king

falls out of the printed page

as letters without a language,

the knots of the curtain unfold.


The red, over the gold of her idol

In her twilight incarnation

Spreads across the sea and the sky.

Bringing the glory of the setting.


The goddess She,

the fire among the lamps.

The embers in his heart.





Popular posts from this blog

The Insult


The Hour Before You Commit Suicide