Love, Lust or Music?
Princess balls still happen, music steals away your senses. Across the room, not one. But two?
Fate? If that’s true, destiny is strange.
The way life plays out, it is a puzzle.
One that is no fun to arrange.
A gala of power, a foggy ballroom.
Three figure prominent, all to be intertwined.
Musician donned in white, a pure angel.
Across the floor clad in black a playboy, aristocrat.
Polar opposites, bitter glances exchanged. Sparks hot as lightning.
Descending the stairs, clad in red, the main character;
A woman lasciviously flaunting in red drawing everyone’s gaze.
The gala: her mission to take a groom.
Yet her gaze fluttered boredly about, leaving her blind.
Heartbeat elevating step by step.
Impure intentions glistening in her eyes,
Expectations high as the pace of the first waltz.
Landing upon the groundfloor, two hands extend.
Black and white, secret smiles and hopeful glances exchanged.
Demon? Angel? Temptress? Did such nicknames suit them?
Life. Death. Passion. Such figures danced.
A roulette of partners.
Eyes of grey, black and blue. Heated gazes.
Before the music stopped and the right mind returns.
The pairs twine together, which way will fate walk away?
Secret rendezvous of love.
A girl torn between two, lead to temptation.
Two hands before her.
Their lives never crossed before sit on a pendulum of choice.
Why take just one?
Passion, secrets, love and lust.
The three accepted the temptation, the jealousy and the rush.
About the Creator
Crystal Ayers
Merely an aspiring author drifting by on the tides. Spinning phrases to build worlds to paint portraits to fill space; allowing symphonies of lyrical colloquy to fill the time as it flows.
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A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli7 days ago in Poets
Standing Still
There are very few moments in life where time truly stands still. When your breath is taken from your chest and your body hangs weightless in that moment. Just long enough for it to stay with you from that day onwards. Deep in the red sands of the Australian Outback, I found that moment and clung to it forever.
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