Skip to main content

Featured Poem: The Soul Solitude Kisses by -Martins Deep



The Soul Solitude Kisses

Mother's love grew into a sour myth.
I spewed out her milk
into the Stygian sea
that brought the merchants
whose merchandise were deep, immortal musings
on a new-found love.

Solitude was there
filled with eros that left
every monk defiled.
Unclad she was and full-breasted.
She had a flair for the seductress art that charmed kings to her bedchamber.
Her incense touched the frail spot
of the strong-willed.
Solitude laid bare like Jezebel
Strumming the strings of David's harp.
Whoever fell to her enchantment
never departed less a god.
Saints that fell
found themselves on thrones
at the right hand of God.

How I longed for a kiss
the daughters could not give.
A secret romance
to catch heaven
as a voyeur peeping through the clouds.

In the darkness,
The sun was ripest
luring the feet of this child
straying away from home.
Shore after shore
No compass nor rudder.
Tempest after tempest
I jettisoned all my desires.
Lightless lighthouse
No anchor nor mast
Just wind enough
In the mast of my bleary lonely soul.
I held my life with tired fingers
unwittingly beholding it like
a jigsaw puzzle.
Dark riddles haunted me
like newspapers to a failed government.

But she was worth the several
unholy reasons to leave home.
To die unashamedly for.
She would kiss not the rich in company
Nor sit with the princes dinning on dainty meat.
Solitude kisses only the lonely
Who finds the path away from life's noisy streets.


-Martins Deep





Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.  "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies"  "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"  After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"  "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Floating - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 146: FLOATING Sometimes I feel like a piece of lead dropped in the ocean Sinking to rise no more Other times I feel like the Titanic riding on ocean waves  but a hole of flaws  bored by their quest for faults leaves me sinking to rise no more. But tonight, I feel like I'm just f      l             o a       t               i   n                    ­     g in a stream of your voice surrounded about by smiling stars touching my skin and caressing my heart. Though I fear sinking again like before I know you're waiting arms open in the ocean bed to engulf me in mindless kisses until my feet forget to flee until I make in you my home for nowhere, there is, to go when I'm floating in your love. (Dedicated to Endie) #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA