HYPNOTIC FRAME

LENTO IN LEFT HAND

As a savored fruit with a smarting taste
comes a dream of these ardent orbs;
floating on Hadean water and ice—
swoons a crimson blossom of pomegranate.

In dark of night the candle called
radiance to light this torpid core;
dream-like, it vanished and left—
a heart of ashes, crumbled, burnt.

Vigil in dark with fading awe,
moonlight succors me in my room;
in quarter tones of Saba sings,
the dawn song of morning breeze.

Through the passing dreary days I dream,
of the flower-shoot's perpetual stand;
enticing, death encircles me and calls
to a drunken dance in time’s womb.

Love that chokes like parching wind
inflames the heart on desire, dark—
brimming with fear and deep regret—
his own grave in reverie digs.

LEGATO IN RIGHT HAND

Disheartening sight of the bee's swirls,
  on wings fluttering, in eager tenacity;
around and round the static stem—
  yielding exhaust and nothing else.

Let him who on the hunt chases a prey,
  deliberate misses his certain shot—
for who had tended the flower’s growth,
  willingly deserted its final blossom!

Watch—this form of wax blooms in fire
  mid the dense mist on full-moon night;
I collect those abounding tear drops
  to water thy sere fading memories.

The fate’s blade lacerates the heart
  of one who holds on its double edge—
for darts still grudge their reproaching arrows
  yet had love-kissed the arrows’ tips.

Attuned to this nightly vernal sob;
  pleads a bloom of haunting beauty in,
airborne—suspended by wraiths of haze—
  and aims its Altair arrow at me.

Who bears wisdom’s consuming flame,
  the star lights the hush, starless air;
verse and speak I this godly power—
  light mine! betake to the brazen tomb.

As the sky's ascended raptor, keen
grows my soul to keep her secrets,
yet all-seeing, forgoes those powers—
  for the iambus of Paros learned her once:
shall the verses kill with intentions,
  if written for one disowned wedlock holy.

When the bird that builds its warm nest
  dreams to rear its tender chicks—
for the grimness of fate's spoken word—
  sacrifices the weak-one in sure mercy?