Serenado

There was a song, 

Hard as an infinite string of spiders,

 inching toward me this morning,

Hypatia's ballad of crows….

Devil in the semen stir as I heard it all the same,

The bite rushed in like a first sip of Celtic whiskey

Arms curled to erection

The range of lice running from every plausible thought that breaks away the army of dream-

It’s a calm lipless song and one I dare repeat though I have heard 

Its chill quite often in many a sleepless morn 

Afraid to cry my respondent resonance,

To inflict,

A sort of genteel serenade upon the momentary crown

The palate memory became a lilting burden

The oil of its spine, 

Sound extortion from my moaning nails,

My eyes pulled back in rush

Never wanting truly to see this sound,

Bad enough we were listening,

Having just missed on a dream to the Spaniard’s Cumana

And above

The water-stained ceiling,

A contorted reflection of this whole damn world

Wild in Amazon 

A river Kurtz-ian flu

“Well, there it is”, I say

My bed, half humanoid and emptied,

A percent twice hundred all the way,

“We have come in hollow ships of mold to pluck out our eyes for the king!”

Some songs get mired down in translation.

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

There is a reason that humans have used song for centuries to describe despair and banish evil spirits. Otherwise, these things prey upon us. Their harbingers know all too well where we hide our own cracks in reality.

[Perdition]

Mostly outside the "gold" of Fibonacci, although we cannot hide from our own nature so why try or want to if that too has a place within the sun. There is grand revolution in the "calm" pain of birth and death and some songs awe the cold that stalks our caverns. Thanks Marie...great to see you again~
Loved your "snow globe"

[emmajoy]

Life-song: sounds. experiences varying according to the way we feel as much as the heat or chill; perhaps the senses quieten at times - not in a fade-away manner but in 'not sure, must decide - some time.' I like the feel of these words, they have shadows. Reasonably kind ones.

[Perdition]

Ode to connections...That superhighway of conscious emotion. In actuality I like shadows....we all live in them; by them or become alive through them....or at least contrast. This song was a thing of burden but it too has a place among the trees and I was only a messenger lucky enough to have been listening. I suppose as much as any other ...Thanks Emma Joy....fathomed thoughts in your review.

[Priscilla Sayers]

This song was meant to be heard...
And no matter the translation it is the sound that rings in ears of he who perceives and shares that matters most. A beautiful translation Sweet Hawk!

[Perdition]

Sometimes with things held to the audible and yet firmly ineffable all you can do is write the calm and walk away. Turning back only to let in the flames. Works well on frosty days like these. Thanks Canvas~