by Ainne Frances dela Cruz
In dark girls I see your skin. The lines of veins delicately whispering on the underside of your arms. The graceful motion of your fingers, how you always seemed on air, entrapped with wings; you who only had to rise to fly.
I, in another time, I see you. Dark of night, and dead weights, as everything must be to your ancient body. Yet, I love this of you. Even the headiness of the scent of entrails rushing after you, slapping on my hair, and I am left, matted and bloodied. And my heart left matted and bloodied.
I see now, you wanted to eat my heart. Dark blood pulsing through arteries. Transparency? Doesn’t my skin scream my love? Yes, my heart is yours. You only had to ask.
Do you remember Chinese water torture? One drop a minute to a prisoner would seem like an eternity of waiting for the deluge. And this, your wings rushing through light, beating through my ears like bats, high-pitched, tortures me. Wanting to get through your skin, carried away on your nails. Wanting to be you, dark as flight, as flight is, to one land-bound.
I am bound to one who flits from transparency, to a land opaque, where feelings must darken, and become murky. From water to blood, from oxygen to air so thin and pure, I have trouble breathing. But this is what we come to in the end, isn’t it? You have clutched me so tightly that I can let go and fall, but always find myself in your talons. The nails curved inwardly, my stomach heaves.
To become one, to be so close that the skin you hold is my skin, that when I look through the dark, I can see you. To hold me as if I was in you, your skin, your blood, my blood, one. This is what you do best, isn’t it? Touch things about to vanish. In your eyes I see myself. Will you see me always this way? Lips stained with your blood, fingers gripping your wings.
Do you want to fly? you asked. I nodded. Then close your eyes. The first bite, the first tear at my skin does feel like weightlessness. Levitation, blood escaping from me, finally free, skin to skin, and body to body. No longer heavy. You carried me forever. You don’t have to do so now.
I can fly.
Paper Monster Press Dream Pop Issue
Copyright ©:
2011
A few random poems:
- Exmoor poem – Amy Clampitt poems | Poems and Poetry
- Maenad by Sylvia Plath
- Baseball and Writing by Marianne Moore
- Василий Тредиаковский – Песенка любовна
- Address to the Deil by Robert Burns
- Dawn Revisited by Rita Dove
- I Rose Up at the Dawn of Day by William Blake
- Владимир Маяковский – Товарищу Нетте, пароходу и человеку
- Sonnet 14 poem – John Milton poems
- Robert Burns: Montgomerie’s Peggy:
- Владимир Маяковский – Чудеса
- Remembrance Of by William Wordsworth
- English Poetry. Henry Livingston. To the Memory of Sarah Livingston. Генри Ливингстон.
- All In a Family Way by Thomas Moore
- Огюст Барбье – Мельпомена
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Letters to the Otherworld
- English Poetry. Katharine Tynan. A Woman Commends Her Little Son. Кэтрин Тайнен.
- English Poetry. Francis Turner Palgrave. A Churchyard in Oxfordshire. Фрэнсис Тернер Палгрев.
- English Poetry. Adam Lindsay Gordon. The Rhyme of Joyous Garde. Адам Линдсей Гордон.
- English Poetry. Mary Wortley Montagu. Epigram, 1734. Мэри Уортли Монтегю.
- English Poetry. Christina Georgina Rossetti. A Christmas Carol. Кристина Джорджина Россетти.
- English Poetry. Adam Lindsay Gordon. Bellona. Адам Линдсей Гордон.
- The Azure Sea of an alien tongue
- Happy Victory Day – May 9, 2022
- English Poetry. Rupert Chawner Brooke. The Vision of the Archangels. Руперт Брук.
- English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Wait. Элла Уилкокс.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 29. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 34. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 23.1. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 26. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 21.1. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 20. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 42. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 9. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 45. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works