Loves are dead and gone

From my university assessment portfolio.
Villanelle


Loves are dead and gone
Fading melody
Happiness to mourn

A breath without, torn
Broken sanity
Loves are dead and gone

Poison to adorn
Decaying beauty
Happiness to mourn

Hearts and dreams all worn
Falling to the sea
Loves are dead and gone

Savage love, new form
Bleed relentlessly
Happiness to mourn

Seasons all be gone!
See through vanity
Loves are dead and gone
Happiness to mourn

© 2012

Lure me to the depths of Hell

Taken from my university assessment portfolio


Lure me to the depths of Hell
I await your torturous melody.
Sweetness unfathomable
Unbearable
Unknown.
The misery and treachery
The love I only know.
Be damned!
Be gone!
Why does your heart linger here?
I am undeserved of your love.

The chaotic whispers
The scent of desire,
Into that I fall.

© 2012

Crystalline storm

Crystalline storm
in a sombrous clutch
of throes of rotten reveries.
The moonlight wanes;
A plague upon us all.

© 2012

I love you

Taken from my university assessment portfolio. Originally written in Danish as required by the task: write a poem in another language.



I love you,
yet love cannot satisfy you.
Bleed for me just once
to feel the pain
that burdens my
heart.
The poison, it reeks
from your vile
tongue,
and yet
I love you

© 2012

Womb

Womb
Farvel
Goodbye, womanhood!
Shall we love?

The seed is gone.
Raw, unripened
Decay of woman!

Wilting
Into forever, nothing.

© 2012

This poem is part of a university assessment portfolio.
Notes on the poem (from exegesis): ‘Womb’, although a short poem, is an interesting one for me. I was watching a film of the same name and I was inspired to look at both the complexities and simpleness of life and bearing life. I have never had a child and probably never will, but I am so curious by the vulnerability and strength of womanhood. A woman can be strong enough to bear a child, yet she and her body are so fragile that the tiniest problem can rid a woman the ability to conceive. I question in the poem, “shall we love?” I am questioning whether a woman, who is now infertile, would find any meaning or joy in love-making anymore now that she cannot bear a child. Is she meaningless too now? I suppose the sci-fi elements of the film made me consider The Handmaid’s Tale and procreation.

The assessment asked students to write either a poem in another language, or write a poem incorporating another language, hence the use of the Danish word ‘farvel’ meaning ‘goodbye’. I thought it added a touch of beauty to the poem.