Look not at the mirror’s or
the photograph’s disguise,
your beauty’s truth is only there
for someone else’s eyes.
The Sun’s blind to his glory
– the illuminated Earth
is all he sees before him
with her living, teeming worth.
If he tells her she astonishes
that with her face love was won
but every morning turns her head
to behold the shining Sun.


The Mermaid

A man alone atop a ship
Takes midnight watch, his people sleep
Through passage narrow he must keep
Sharp eye lest navigation slip.
The large decaying moon glowed bright
The rocks around were clearly lit
But there a softer curve did sit
Emerging forms born out of night
Shine of eye, torrent of hair
Dewy skin and throat demure
Her concave yearnings salted pure
A warm night’s wind breathed through the air
And his breath caught as sure as hers
His duty now seemed but a curse
Mere threat of death could not be worse
Than sailing on as course occurs
Enchanted with her moonlit face
Her beckoning limbs and burning gaze,
And freed from the reason of his days
The sailor leapt to her embrace
Such vessels wreck on reefs like these
with surface rippling over deep
Their longing lives forever keep
So many hearts are lost in seas
Man in desperation torn
And shore’s desire for kiss of foam
Hid jagged truth: his final home.
Now see in the red strip of dawn
That legs of sand and smooth rose-shell
Condemned his soul to briny Hell

I guess I was feeling Gothic, hope you like it! It’s a first draft, and may need some more tweaking.
This was inspired by a poem by poesypluspolemics, a blog I very much enjoy reading. Go see if you can spot what I stole!

I leave you gently

I leave you gently
with the quiet din of peace
like waves leave the shore

I wrote this haiku after breastfeeding my baby to sleep and then managing to extricate myself from her mollusk-like grasp to go do other things. But it could refer to other kinds of separation too.
It’s a traditional haiku because it ends with an image of nature.

Lover, press thy hand

Lover, press thy hand
that I may like liquid curl
in sharp sweet tendrils
oil under water’s caress
languishing in arabesque

My first version of this was kind of an extended Tanka:

Lover, press thy hand
that I may like liquid curl
in sharp sweet bubbles
and separated tendrils
of self meeting self,
oil under water’s caress
languishing in arabesque

I felt I needed to add a couple of lines to say what I wanted to, but I then I decided the extra was unnecessary. Which version do you like better?
I must say, I quite like ending with a rhyming couplet.

In other news, It’s the 1st of May, so goodbye Napowrimo 2013, and so long prompts I do not follow. I now find myself burdened with this blog, but I rather like it. I’ve been thinking of continuing, so I will do so with a promise: I will come here with a new poem, at least twice a week. Let’s say (tentatively) Wednesdays and Sundays, since they are the only days I never missed in the month of April.

That said, I have another to give to you before today ends.

What was left unsaid

words unwanted left my lips
and shimmered dimly far
a feather floating caught a whisper

uncertain angels hovering high
above the muttering mouths
took flight of fancy into fire

to craft a temple in the sand
afloat upon the salt
where wind would shift its subtle sound

an intricate design inlaid
with the blueness of truth
but still I was afraid to say


This is an almost-ballad, a structure I specifically invented for the occasion…
I have all but given up on the prompts, but I did drop a colour into the second to last line just for the sake of it.