Lament on the land
pinch the flower
from the book of civilization
I cry every time
When I see dry land
bandaged in black
suffering for homeland
I cry and pray
last trace of beauty
hidden within us.
An ugly erosion; the loss of land begins within. – mh clay
Priest every night
says a prayer
near the church
with the blue dome,
in a dream
music the last time
an unnamed grave
silence echoes
before sleep
strange visions
music dreams
enigma forever
at the door
garden full of flowers
through the light
of faith
the music of the past
through dreams
reaching out to him
with a cross
in his hands
a requiem for
forgiveness
an unknown grave,
dream prayers
light in centuries.
Seek forgiveness in dream for peace in the light; in the end – may it rest. – mh clay
Saturn cried for days
was in love with the Moon
a servant of the Sun
he met a blind Jupiter
Mars was already ready
in a red mantle,
winner of many duels
Judges Neptune and Uranus
are standing next to weapons
Saturn is still crying
Earth watched sadly
behind the mask of the Sun
stood by his servant Moon
Mars was already dead
Sun was just around the corner
with a gun darkness covered
It was only dust and ashes
Then the Sun put a black veil
on itself
and absolute silence reigned.
Celestial subterfuge ensues. Shhhh… – mh clay
Legend
about the ship
with slaves from
an unknown place
that took shelter
big storm
symbols mystical
magical powers
the sound of
heavy chain
hitting the ground
causing fear among
the population
unknown force
pulling the chains
bound edges at sea
as ghosts
shadows in the night
to the sea
black statues at sea
unknown symbols
island with black anchors
still standing.
Don’t want to be a passenger on that cruise. (We welcome Milenko into our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay
In cold
chambers
of death
gruesome shadows
of sinners
disappear
in the dark
depths
faith
on the hill
of crucifixion.
Truth to cleanse, found in the dark of self. – mh clay
Apparitions
death
disappear
in a fog
recollections
verses
dead
poet
hidden.
The ensuing void we would fill with words. – mh clay
