Archive for toxic

the face of certain death (part 3 of 8 from “A Tincture Of Tellurium”

Posted in poetry, relationships with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 8, 2010 by blackstarr

Starkly recognizable,

the face of certain death appeared.

It was toxic, poison,

and, there loomed a hint of evil.

But, she was the quintessential Aphrodite,

in possession of an intrinsic eroticism.

She was the one.

At long last, she had shown herself.

Her eyes were piercing, and, as black as coal,

and, i was prepared to relinquish my very soul.

Her eminence was immeasurable.

Before me, stood the eidolon,

that dream of perfection found.

Her legs seemed to tower to an unimaginable height.

Her breasts were impeccably voluptuous,

and, the splendor that radiated from her face

was heretofore unequaled.

The great Nefertiti would have conceded

her throne of sublime elegance

in the company of such rare beauty.

 

Yet, at the same time, I peered into the face of certain death.

I gazed upon that toxic beauty,

and, was immediately aware of the evil that lived within.

But, to taste of that poison, to be consumed by that evil,

I would have wallowed in that death as if it were but sweet repose.

Though possessed with that new-found mission,

I would live to see the blossom of a new day.

The cup from which I would gladly have sipped,

even in the knowledge of its fatal eventuality,

had escaped my grasp.

As if by some magic,

as if by some mystical power,

in an instant  .  .  .  she vanished.

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copyright  1997  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

until she reveals her face (part 2 of 8, from “A Tincture Of Tellurium”)

Posted in just for the bull of it, Love, poetry, relationships with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2010 by blackstarr

I live a sequestered life, for I fathom no reason

to give my precious love to one who is not the one.

She who is the one

has inscribed her being upon the walls of my soul.

Her eminence is forbearing:

imitation

would be an absurdity;

her authenticity

will be unmistakable;

when she appears, I will know.

She will have so rare a beauty that it will astound me.

She will come to me, emanating a trace of evil.

She will administer my fatal injection of ecstasy.

So, I wait, enduring my life in solitude

until she reveals her face to me.

When the night comes,

I close my eyes,

and, I feel her presence.

She is liquid persuasion.

In times of silence,

I perk my ears,

and, she speaks to me,

having the resonant voice of romance.

When i envision my future,

the intricacies of her beauty are fully displayed,

and, my zeal increases, as my ecstasy will not be long delayed.

I live my life sequestered, as if saving it

for some anointed one.

Is no one worthy but she?

Would not love . . . even mere interaction with others

be but dissipation, knowing what the future holds?

I dare not gamble.

surely she is toxic, absorbed in evil,

but, I will patiently endure my life in solitude

until she reveals her face to me.

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copyright  1997  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

Poison (part 1 of 8, from “A Tincture Of Tellurium”)

Posted in Dreamscape, Love, poetry, prose, relationships, satire and sarcasm, social commentary with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 17, 2010 by blackstarr

Tellurium . . . she was its human portrayal.

born in the year of fifty two,

passivity consummately overdue.

When she revealed herself to me, this sensuous Aphrodite

was a delightful one-hundred-twenty-eight pounds,

sister to the four winds, free-spirited, untamable.

Tell them that she is as exotic as neon, but, is, in no way, as innocuous.

Her beauty will be astonishing, a rare sight, to be sure.

But, let them be warned that she is

at the same time . . . toxiferous . . . noxious,

a tincture of tellurium.

Her voice was euphonic, yet, like a Grecian siren,

it was full-scale seduction,

and, imminent destruction.

She came to me as the eidolon,

that dream of perfection found, which never comes to be.

And, in the end, she became

. . . my injection,

. . . my addiction,

my reason for self-annihilation.

She was liquid xenon, flowing and unresponsive,

and, nearly as unattainable, her free heart unrestrainable.

My actions brought no reactions.

My words of affection were

. . . weightless molecules,

. . . soundless thoughts,

lost to the wind.

She was a secret code, an indecipherable mystery.

Here was the essence of the arcane,

perched upon a cryptographic plane.

Her eyes pulled me in, and,

her touch replenished.

Her kiss drained me of life itself.

She remained . . . ensconced, . . . unsolved,

even cloaked in a veil of non-divulgence.

Tellurium . . . but a faint trace is certain obliteration.

for to grasp the exotic, to taste of the erotic,

obliteration would have been a welcome relief.

So I grasped, I tasted, and, hastened my own undoing.

She was . . . astonishing . . . a rarity, she was a tincture of tellurium.

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copyright  1997  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

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