Rosasophia's* Magickal Poetry

*formerly Sapphire copyright © 2000-2004


The Company of Stars

I sought your face out from across the room,
your eyes looking back at me with my own
I sought your face in the movies and on TV,
I saw you in my dreams at night.
I saw myself in the pale faces of those young men
who took up romantic causes,
working on kibbutzim and in shelters.
I saw you in the faces of the hungry artists
who sat alone at the Goth clubs writing poetry
And in the pretty women who danced ecstatically
while intoxicated on wine and champagne or on love.

I dimly remembered those sunlit afternoons long ago
when we walked through the mountains of Europe,
sharing dreams of when we would become diplomats or writers.
All while car bombs exploded
and fires were lit in churches or synagogues;
Guns were fired in schools and nations rose and fell.
Even now I feel the sting of your hand on my tender flesh
Encoded with the history of drunken nights spent in
hotels in strange cities where young people
spilled red paint on women clad in fur.
I recall faces looming over me with eyes
that fed my own the way yours do now.
My own churning and unrequited passions
seek satiation in your naïve and hopeful eyes
The will to devour, possess, and then become.
I do not know where I end and where you begin
nor where the past and the future cease to merge.
I know only the spark of light and desire
that passes between us when our eyes meet,
And the breath of life that issues from your mouth
Each time you say the words, "I love you ."

Surrender

Who knew that one could be broken
by the weight of possibilities?
That hope could be the ruin of happiness
I should be so bereft, so empty of desire.

My thoughts race through moments in time --
Crinkling laugher and soft tears;
The smell of rain in the fall,
and of daisies and daffodils in the spring;
Your scent as we embraced beneath
the luminous kisses
of a silvery moon at night.

Days accumulated into weeks, then months, then years.
Memories overflow into the present
and I imagine myself hanging from a cliff,
my nails clawing at dirt
and roots of trees.
If I let go I will die.
I stare down into the unknown, loosening my grip.

Has it all been a lie,
These passing pictures of precious moments?
Was it all a waste,
those hours spent sharing solemn secrets?
Was my life built around an illusion?
Pieces of myself fall away
as I drift into oblivion
And for a moment I am free.



An Interplay of Colors:
Weaving the Dance of the Veil of Life

Obsidian butterfly wings press against golden petals,
An eclipse of the sun, both cloaked in silk.
Stars peak from the night sky,
A stolen moment in time, forever couldn’t be long enough.
A look, a touch, a kiss….
Then the butterfly soars away,
leaving that quivering blossom in its wake
touched by an unnamable magick.

(Letting Go of)Delusion

I knew you once, in my dreams,
frolicking among the fantasies of
fairie princes and merry maidens.

Our hearts were drawn together in a cosmic dance
of eccentric loneliness
and demented denials thrown irreverently
in the face of better judgment
and social convention
so that the dream could be given voice and wings
Unfettered flight - free falling laughter in the merciless wind.

Now we stand in the stillness of our individual worlds
estranged, locked apart, haunted by memories.
I think of you and cry
knowing that the dream is dead
and we no longer exist.



The Art of Silence

My words fall like flurries on a frigid spring day
melting before they fully form,
droplets landing on flowers blooming in the grass below.
The wind whips, lashing out at my inability
to express what I feel –
and my fear to say the things I want to say.
A crow caws accentuating the hush that follows his herald.
Silence falls where only moments before song reigned, unnoticed.
How remarkable in its naturalness;
how easy the flow of music from the lips of children.
Blossoms glistening from dew-soaked fields smile at my folly.
They know that speech is powerless in the face of art,
and that the stirrings of my heart have no words,
save the tears falling from the sky, each ubiquitous and unique,
melting into nothingness, merging with everything.
Love has no words.



The Passage of Time

(dedicated to Steve)

 I stand here stuck in time staring through a hazy window
As you wave goodbye to the boy you knew.
Tender tears fall through the night,
Sadness wrapped around me like an old familiar friend.
My breath grows cold; our youth mourns the wisdom,
hard-won through winter storms, nights of loneliness,
the struggle for freedom and hopes unrealized suddenly within grasp
or fallen away like those fleeting visions once shared.
A single tear between us, and a heart felt smile.
I whisper good-bye to something profound
As we part from the memories of who we were
and embrace the vision of who we are becoming.


My Profound Secret

 The bittersweet sting of fresh wounds caresses my consciousness
with the knowledge of my most profound secret --
A precious power I can call at will.

The power of pain;
The power to lash out;
The power to stop the tears I cannot cry;
The power of blood;
The power to still thoughts of you.

I smile serenely or cruelly as I feel the sticky warmth
flow down my florid skin.
The coppery scent wafts around me,
wrapping me in anesthetic arms.
Beautiful blades glisten,
reflecting my sacred scars in their unforgiving light.
The sanctification of my suffering --
A secret power I can call at will.
The bittersweet sting of fresh wounds caresses my consciousness
with the knowledge of my most profound secret.
To know me is to know death and to choose life

The Greater Feast

 The smell of siamese benzoin fills the air
with an all-consuming presence,
a god demanding his due,
just as the cup and cross of suffering
pours into the ocean of life,
the blood of the lamb and the mighty serpent
blended into a perfect work of Art.

By twos and threes the secret force stirs the power within.
Who could guess that such a simple thing
could yield such a puissant gift?
Who could guess my pain of obligation
would lead to the greatest feast of all?
The crimson river flows from my veins
as the smell of siamese benzoin fills the air.



A Haunting Encounter

In my own inner world electric sparks
Exist only in the vivid colors of my dreams,
Yet an invisible magnet draws me to you.
My reason screams out warnings while my heart yearns longingly.
I would be both aloof and loved
Scorned and conqueror.
I am both mother and child and
My love is alternately a flowing font
and a barren desert
But for my chosen it is a wine that comes from
somewhere beyond myself.
Your essence permeates my mind
My eyes overflow with crimson tears.



Ars Regia

A raven calls in the chill of night.
With morning dove songs, swans awake.

In a secret chamber awaits a rose.

The serpent twines about the orphic egg;
Sulphur scents electric air.
The blood of the lion spilled,
droplets of mercury glisten gold.

The Joyous Wedding Day has come.
Oh! golden Sun and Silvery Moon

Fiery Water toasts the chariot and caretaker
With shimmering drops of radiant dew,
seven lotuses shine beneath the living Sun.



The Beholden

Two souls lost in the misty mind of aloneness,
Reach out in search of tenderness, an effervescent light.
a warm touch, a kiss,
a softly spoken word
or a sweet embrace.
Kindred spirits meet in passing.
They share the orgasmic dance of life,
seeking refuge in one another,
yet finding fear and paths fraught with tears.
But never is there a pain more frightful,
a sorrow more morose
as one who has been cast aside as naught
when her heart has been torn apart.
For even when the dance was over
her heart was large enough to love,
but in his blindness he did not see it.
He saw only what he could not have.

Visionary

Among the company of the mad I partake from the bitter cup
That has been handed down throughout the ages to
Genius and degenerate alike
The pinnacle of joy, a fleeting light of hope beckoning, tantalizing
Is a fickle friend, but for but a single sup
I would wallow in the most harrowing of hells.
For to have tasted her sweet lips even once
is better than never having felt the frenzied fire,
the dazzling delight, the ineffable ecstasy.
In the darkest of days, memories of marvelous movements
In the sea of the soul, soothe with the salve of surrender
Crawling on hands and knees, wretched and alone
I reach to the heavens from where
She beckons the bereaved.


The Dying of the Sun

Ravaged by the unforgiving sun,
I hide in the darkness, longing
For the cold silence of winter sleep
Cruel seasons, eternal,
Though I am thy slave,
I scorn thee with all the vileness of my heart.
I curse the savage hand of time,
The merciless turning of the omnipotent clock.
I long to be devoured into the dark emptiness of space,
Infinite, omnipresent, timeless, death.
Take me, almighty darkness, welcome me
Into thy womb and drown me in thy kisses.
Let us devour the sun together
Cursed, Accursed!
You drip in blood, even as I weep.



The Most Complex Simplicities

 A parting of ways – A tearful goodbye
Emotional hurt - Physical pain
Blood – Relief
Emptiness – Satiation
Love – Hate
Pride – Humiliation.

Imagining the feel of your warm sweet breath,
Forgiveness comes with the sting of a razor’s caress.
Truth – Delusion.
Redemption–Damnation
Life – Death.

A slit of the wrist – An illusion of bliss
A sigh – A kiss
A sip of wine – A taste of deliverance
You – Me
Together – Alone.
Always – Never.



The Final Hour

I bang my head against imaginary walls
and flail the limbs of my heart.
In a self-made prison, bound and gagged,
restrained by a straight-jacket of
unresolved emotions and groundless fears,
I silently scream; a call for compassion
or a plea for penance, or maybe just a
hollow howl at a merciless moon.
Kneeling beneath a smoky rose-colored sky,
fissures of light penetrate the clouds of my mind,
promising the possibility of freedom.
I can only stare in wonder, basking in a brief
shower of stars, still shackled in manacles,
the key just a hair’s breath away.



Star Sapphire

A secret rose blooms, in velvety midnight sky
Silken petals unfold, in the center of the Moon
The law of love decreed, with priestly lance raised up,
Intoxicated by the serpent's kiss, we drink from the golden cup
Enfolding us in eternal bliss, four exalted swans soar
Scarlet wine flows freely, from the mouth of the sacred whore.




The Last Rite

Oh Cruel Mistress!
Do my anguished cries not reach your deaf ears?
Foul fiend, would'st you deny thy servant
One last taste of your sweet lips?
Your love is fickle, but my heart is true
I yearn for, but one last kiss
Then would I willingly wade into that dark mire
My fate is a fool’s folly
But your beauty beckons
With serpentine succor
Promising perfect bliss before
That moment of annihilation.



Daring the Truth

I sit silently in my crypt
while you rampage and ravage like a rabid wolf.
I'd like to bash your head in
Watch chunks of flesh splatter against
The ivory linoleum of the kitchen floor
Watch as rivulets of blood seep onto the
Persian throw rug, once so treasured for
It's alluring beauty.
Mysteries of the east tantalize and taunt
As clouds of opium inspire oratories
In my head.

Aaah, yes, I sigh as I trace the veins in my arm,
Shivering at the tingles evoked by my trailing fingers.
I smile as I imagine ripping them open with the gleaming blades
Ornamenting my walls.
A laugh escapes my lips as I look away
In disgust from your gluttony
The scent of copper and salt...a rich, fleshy smell
Tickles my nose as I curl up to dream
of the damnation which surely awaits us both.


A Stranger in the Glass

 A bewildered smile looks back at me
in the reflection of the window.
It’s a smile that belongs to a woman more experienced than I.
It’s a smile of a woman more cunning than I.
I am perplexed by the hardness of the eyes I once knew,
Eyes that now cry so much more easily than before.
Wells of wisdom, memories, sadness, joy, and loss-
Are my tears as twisted as the knots
in my stomach when I think of you?

Light glistens from my hair.
Golden sparks of sunlight remind
Me of youthful summers outdoors
Now I spend my summers inside
and shield my face from the sun like a vampire.

A sigh passes through my lips.
I turn away from the stranger in the glass.
I am not the woman I saw in there.
I don’t recognize her;
I don’t really exist at all.
I’m hollow and drained, waiting to be filled
By the only thing denied me.




Fatal Flaws

She thought daisies and daffodils would fill the emptiness inside
Painted smiles masking private pain
She didn't notice the small crack near the base
A tear slipped through, soon followed by another.

Flowers wilted and dried,
The Sun too harsh when water became scarce.
A fresh bunch of blossoms soon followed suit.
Someone please fix this wound,
The vase silently pleaded.

Alas, no one seemed to listen
No one saw the fatal flaw
Dozens of roses, lilacs, and mums
Dried up and died, one by one.
The crack slowly widened,
Tears no longer contained
Leaves trembled and petals fell
Into a pool amassed on the mantel,
Where a picture lay forgotten.




Reunion

I sought refuge in your arms
Feelings I'd thought past, suddenly reborn
In a whirlwhind of longing
for the temporary renactment
Of a love gone awry
A longing for the safety
of a tenderness of heart

My mind danced in a crystal palace
A palace of illusion,
With Crystal beams in sight
and rainbow songs in heart
I leaped and twirled
A thrilling pirouette.

But for those dancers whose
Blood has poured into
the parched earth far below,
There is no safety in reality
And crystal shards soon take their toll.
No longer a fairy princess
in the castle we once shared
I dance alone, a phantom
in a dress of torn black lace.

Moonlight shines upon my amber hair;
Tears stream down my crumbled face.
My blood long dried and gone,
I sought refuge in your arms.
In the memories of the past
But what I really wanted was
The taste of your sweet kiss
and a promise for the future.



The Pelican
(or the Mass of the Phoenix)

An angel's gift for famished souls,
Golden Gate of life
A double-edged sword
Plunged deep into tender flesh
Ruby beads overflow
With the sweet elixir of life
A sacrifice set before fledgling gods,
Given with a Mother's love
Majestic wings spread out for flight,
Standing upon ashes of ages past.


More poetry

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