The Calming Storm

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From my slumber
I awake—to Nature’s great melee!
Raging Hydra’s electric tendrils
Kissing Sky to Sea.
My chamber shakes; the window sash
Shoots open. Shutters bang and mirrors crash.
The wind flies in and skirts around,
Makes a cyclone of my hair and gown.
The salty splashes christen me:
Out-mad thy madness with the sea!
How I wish I could this bedlam train:
Make mincemeat of my soul and brain.
To teach it how to come again
And calm my storms as Nature can.
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Obsidian

 

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Volcanic dense, though lava cooled,
Carved Phoenix rising to the sky,
To penetrate a pale, blue pool,
A morning call to Night's demise.

Shine forth, ye peaked, ebony jewel,
Reveal within the sun's first rays,
A standing power's highest view
And witness to a million days.

An ancient tower, black on blue,
Erected by a thousand slaves
From distant quarries forth they drew–
Obsidian–its glassy face—the vanity of gods embrue.

As chaos, ever creeping darkness looms,
Be light and wise among the ruins.

The Storm

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The Storm

by R. Saint Claire

Sheets of ocean pierced by Titans
Channeled on Leviathan's back,
Swells and lolls, crests and heightens,
Mounting Sky’s sulphuric crack.

In black, the mad widow divining
From the shore, among the wrack,
A golden sphere from her hand is shining,
Sparkling remnants of the heart she gave.
Tonight--at last her stars aligning--
She’ll lie within his watery grave.

Ode to Spring

botticelliprimavera

ODE TO SPRING
by R. Saint Claire

Wings span across the sky in flight
Green, snaking slivers stretch and lift.
From murky mounds to peaks of light
The falcon’s golden iris shifts.

From sea to seedlings turning under
Deep earth wherein the giant lolls,
Waking buds from winter slumber
Burst to life on verdant knolls.

The naked maiden in the river,
From the mud the clearing tides;
Golden goddess, faithful giver,
Gathers up the blooms that rise.

Love Sonnet #2

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ONE HEART
By R. Saint Claire

Loving center and corporeal home,
A fused join at two chambers meeting,
Sacred symbol of the love I own,
And emblem of my life’s completing.

The battlefield of daily strife
Can’t compromise the greater will,
That you’re my husband, I’m your wife.
What wars are lost! What blood we spill!

Silly to think it my decision,
But I’ve been tempered by the years.
In true love there is no division;
A cauterizing brand--my heart is seared.

Revered, loving heart--one blood, one breath!
To honor and cherish till my death.

Love Sonnet

 

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LOVE SONNET
by R. Saint Claire

Bright twinkle of stars and warmth of the sun,
Flotillas of clouds in Heaven’s fresh air,
Dark battles through which the brave hero becomes,
To all things amazed my lover compares.

The moon’s pale mystery, the change in the tides,
And sands in the hourglass’ turns in a day,
That cause shallow men from Love’s duty to hide,
Shall never convince my bold lover to stray.

Sweetest dwelling never leased, but owned,
His key in the lock of my chamber remains.
A palace or hovel--his love is my home.
My heart’s true passion’s my lover’s domain.

These things I swear ‘bout my love and I do:
As Heaven above him, my lover is true.

 

The Red Tower

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In the Red Tower
The planes mature
To a dance that beats
Red sausage links and iron ore.

In the Red Tower
Flames shoot from the stack, 
Fire white hot at the top, 
Black in the cracks.

In the Red Tower
A dragon wails
A song so sad, such simple pain that none
(Maybe just the sea urchins) Understand.

The madder-heart,
With each bump it bleeds,
Runs into the ancient stones, and
Dies in agony, slowly and alone. 
Forked tongued forgiveness 
Wanting only for a friend,
A pat, a snuggle,
An “I understand.”

The black smoke bleeds
From the Red Tower—
Righteous respite,
But only for the gods.
Earth shifting,listing,
Leaning to the left, 
As crows swarm on the edge then dive 
Into the black.

What time to make the stones and legends dance!

Ode to Melancholy

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ODE TO MELANCHOLY

Saturnal turnings to woeful wooings,
Unrequited in a heart that aches,
Infernal dreams of despair imbuing,
Hopelessly tethered to past mistakes.

Romantic passions the depth of Venus,
Bacchantic thrashings; they both espouse
Byronic madness—a proof of genius!
Flawlessly shuttered in one dark house.

Melancholy, to thee I sing,
For all the gifts your heartaches bring.

Within a Dream

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Within a dream the voice is real
A shrill, struggling song.
A door in the floor, I open it
Unafraid and follow the sound.
A secret tunnel spirals underground;
A black lake turns me round.
I touch it, and fly towards the peal,
And a cavern of sky upside down.

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