Poetry by Chrysippe

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Brightest Thrones

moonlight drenching skin, she rides the other way on a pale horse like a dark hearse, my love left unrevealed; story's plot reversed.

did i dare these words or find another dream? bleached world moans of empty thrones-- no consort for the queen.

have i pushed these looks too far, questions quest too deep? you hoped that you'd misunderstood? she bids me go to sleep.

questions turn to dreams with lashes feather-swift, all shaded eyes chipped from ice that chains 'round my throne lift.

Fireworks Like Pompeii

touched off tiny dancing growing flames, falling beam and showers like a rainstorm at a Chinese festival-- extra hot n' spicy, aren't we flame~broiled now.

touched my skin, just here and there. i believe in those astringent kisses as the snow falls near Pompeii-- nothing gold can stay.

leather touch of comfort cold, dark as blunted steel honed scraping, screeching, sliced to heal.

Midas touch to tender face, stitching metal, living silver wire all caught up in repulsive grace and the thunder you don't hear.

dancing rage inside the tempest of a snow that's fallen, flames still burning. acid ashes reign the world, as do you and i, so sweet it burns.

wild hunt in greatest patience time might give to desperation. i take in the shock; you know you've seen my face before, but where? best put some ice on that, dear.

bones found among the cinders, charcoal sketches, as when your darkness spoke to-- you are beautiful to me, and i, Avenger, Angel-dear, must dance on your blood forever, mingled with my hair.


Half a Two~Step in a Box

Harpeyed gaze; we can fade away for a while, maybe for a whole hour, if we forget what doesn't matter. On the edge of a cliff, lay down on green grass. Hang your head out over it, stare at the sky until you realize where we really are. Place your feet upon that powdered azure, firm. If this is an understanding beyond words, why are we here, in this captured time, walled place?  Why are we not ethereal? I know your thoughts are gossamer, your eyes are icing; there must be something more.

We have almost left this moment, and you are not here at all, but i remember. I can't block out that vision-- your eyes the field of night sky; the sun bounced off the water, lit you up like so many stars, as you gazed. I would not stand to lose.  I will find the boat you sailed on if you raise for me the red flag, as the gypsies do, in bloodiest love. I bring you back to this solidity, and touch your face as an equal.


Moon Pies, or Jump on the Bandwagon

hot as rock, those girlz with the moon eyes, pale pies on a cement-dripping, Dairy~Queen day.

calm and lean, Amazon Queen, sweetest seen in cutoffs worn so far above the knees~ and thank you, please, i'll have a popsicle or three-- a red, a purple~green.

dancin' on her toes, she sniffs the air and catches there the scent of goblins climbin' out of lava walking stony paths like so many new~ born goddesses trippin' such a treat is fresh, dear meat and that bic pen's all exploded on the college~rule mead notebook ain't it funny how it's lost its point in melancholy whiteness like the shadows in their eyes.

Warrior Princess born again like all the Christian saviors or a nation of believers, still, we're tunin' stuck, vaccuum cleaner up, but  popsicles all melting notebook empty sittin' staring watching full of dusty fervor.


Next Battle

We're all warriors here. Here you box your way of life into a wandering conundrum, finding time to swim and hike and spin a tale or ride and swing a sword and sleep with that never-ending watchfullness. It's scary how you do these things as every one were a battle pitched against what was, a great debate with what might be. If we fight enough battles, wherever we find them, we may just win the war.  but i doubt it. Still, burning out is greater than giving up, you say. I watch you across the flames, sleeping as sleep were a demon to be conquered. This quiet enduring makes me tired.


a poem for da Calli~grrrl

she tells you not to turn your back, a gesture of flame from her wind~whipping mind, the divine~ the beach~blond hair and freezing steel henna-ed blood as her honeyed words, a game. if you walk away, you'll wish you'd covered your back with gummy bears, or something sweet all melted in a flowered mold, beneath the scalding sun~ she'd sniff the petals, know the rose, have played this scene before. you'd like to get her hot n' bothered, never in a million suns to melt those chocolate eyes, these fans we wave around, stirring heat and stirring frowns, would melt beneath inferior fires. she would seek~ a Princess tall as goddess bold, increase her eyes, and smile, to tell you a dry heat.