The First and Last (Farlien’s Meeting Place)


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I could have gone on the ether

I could have kissed the hems

Of the cloud-clad gifts of Demeter

Of the jewels in the rocks and the fens

I had no seated bounds

No traces wound ‘round 

Naked lips, wrists, fingers and ankles

My neck I wore white

And clean as the new light

That broke on the spears of the mountains

I knew the birds’ hum

And the sybilline thrum

Of the woods and the heather mist rising

I looked no farther away

Than the next dawning day

‘Til I found the first and last treasure

I could have gone on the ether

I could have raised the land

With every step after Demeter

With every note sung a command

But I found the green by the water

I found flowers born of the eye

I found the words never before uttered

And here I am happy to lie

*

This poem started with a mondegreene from “Moonlit”, by Villages

Image from Tolkien Gateway

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Fool’s Gold


Few years taken that are not now caught

Beneath a moonsheen’ melancholy

And affrighted sunspots wherever smiles

Might be remembered

The heavens spun insensate and time

Was frittered away as light as dew

As if it too might come again

With every sunset

Yet red skies from the belfry sounded loss

And renewal came only in tales

Falling from pocket worlds

Offering escape

Red medium


He has red eyes

And hair like the curls of a French horn

My father had trouble expressing emotion

My mother, with expressing too much

Ask me which I am

Of a given day

And I’ll show you both

Mostly Rhyming


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I’m really excited to say that I have completed my first illustrated anthology, “Mostly Rhyming”. This is a collection of my poems interspersed with black and white digital sketches like the bunny in the boudoir above 🙂

The e-book is on Amazon in Kindle format –  and the Kindle app is free!

Parallel Outlet: 11


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Sleep slower, and maybe you’ll notice curious things. Be wary of using words like “indefinitely” – this comes with a poem:

Baby, I’ll crawl to you

across the vast mirage of time and space

should misfortune befall time itself

or the laws of physics break

It has been nearly a year since I first read the post “sleep slowly”, and the four lines of that poem still come back to me. Continue reading “Parallel Outlet: 11”

The Sea-Girl’s Undertows


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One naked, pink-shell ear is his

Words made of spice and rumbling

He sounds like hills she’s never seen

Conifer fires, fragrant humming

She gleans dark loam from his smile

Far from the sand and rocks and waves

Warmth drawing her from whitecaps

An effervescent nature stayed

Salt glitters on cheeks, on eyelids

As pale and slight as he is hearty

Her kelp hair like matted feathers

Eyes blue, bewitched and longing

She listens although cracks spider

Over her lips and back and hair

Heart burning out of the water

That kept her sleek and fair

And she listens to him still

After he has journeyed on

One pink-shell ear turned white

Sowing undertows of want

~

Elizabeth Cook, 2018