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Moon Madness

Prostrate. in fevered dream light, I swallow your kisses,
drawing sustenance from empty myth, as your waters break
over my parched dying soul to breech my needs in cold
nature once again.

Where are our fifty daughters as I howl at your passing?
Would that they nurse their father's madness with a single
waking touch, as my dreamless finality nears? There are no
armored sons close as I convulse to memories of my youthful
loves and lie, pale, and abandoned to my chosen course.

Gravid Selene whose blush washes my eyes in fearful desire,
my nocturnal emission rises to your tidal pull , as I breath your
salt drenched perfume and ache in other worldly light for our
final union.

Daughters of my sleep take lovers and flee, bind their
dreams to your souls, blind them ,to your whore mother's
shameless temptations and her cords of silken light ..

And you, my constant unceasing lover; will you ever find voice?
Or are we destined to love and die in the sun's reflected light
as my spine crumbles to dust beneath your fullest weight?
United unto death

Editing stage: 





Having read and critiqued poetry almost daily on Neopoet for the last 7 years it takes a lot to get me excited. Sad to say most of what I read is poorly written, unoriginal and voiceless. It's been less than weekly that I have critiqued lately.

I confess that it was your mention of one of my critiques that prompted me to check out your work, however anyone will tell you my critiques are always honest, if harsh, sometimes even abusive. This is the third of your works I've read tonight and I want to thank you. There is a reason why I hang out here.

The work speaks for itself. There are a few misplaced commas and spaces, it is worth attending to, they are a minor distraction. The only thing that doesn't work for me is the last line. You have an effective, understated style and that last line feels a bit dramatic. Maybe lose it altogether?

Excellent use of enjambment.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

True. test past.
Thanks . Jimm.

author comment

You Must be young, full of hidden desires and needs,
driven by the tides of words that batter at the doors of
your mind with flourish of expression, tempted to
try something beyond your experience(not competence),
much as those who play the perpetual games of killing
others in their computer games, want more than more...
this is only the undercurrent that slinks along in the
subconscious as I read your poem.

It is exciting, and the true meanings elusive;
I am left with a conglomerate of thoughts that
ricochet about among your words.

Ann of Norway.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Thank you very much Ms Anne of Norway, What did you think of the poetic effort, speculating on age is hardly critique! but I am glad it at least intruiged you.

author comment

Jimm, I said what I felt about it, I
am no specialist in poetic device
or the language of poetry from the
technical point of view, so I only say
something about that if I feel capable
of doing so.

Sorry to disappoint you. It was fun to read.


"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

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