Amaryllis

How can you be so tense and serious,
Dear Amaryllis; don’t you know the only way to bloom
Is not with shoulders up, hands balled, arms trussed,
But through two far-flung arms like sunlight’s starry plumes?

Just as a flower may reveal its face
And spreads its light into a soul-lit place,
It opens in a field of blackened space
To wrap it all into a bright embrace–

All but the bud. No light can reach inside
A fist of folded arms and face cast into stone
And overcast with shade, as if to hide
The very thing that should be shown and should have shone–

Oh Amaryllis! much have you abused:
Aurora’s gift of beauty never used,
Prometheus’ sacrifice refused,
Apollo abandoned–you stand accused

Of killing off the very thing you are,
Like weeds that choke the life from their own sprouting seeds;
Some suicide, self-fratricide, bizarre
Oblivion, the price of which is paid by me,

The one who wished to witness that beauty,
The one who always dreamed what it would be,
The one who only just wanted to see
Your flower blooming, petals light and free.

~Michael Danger Caskey

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Love Lies Bleeding

There is something breeding, Love-lies-a-bleeding,
Says I to the dead Amaranth,
For I’m not misleading, but I feel a breathing
That’s wrapping my neck with romance.

For something is breeding when Love goes pleading
For feeling embraces again,
But Passion is leading, her dewdrops are beading–
Men die when she’s all that remains.

But something is missing, Love reminiscing,
Says the hangman to the headman,
For you say I’m wishing, but I say I’m kissing
The lips of fair Death as deadman.

For something is missing in Amaranth’s string,
When she’s tugging him up from the ground,
But that’s not dismissing the way hangman’s hissing
With drooping black hood at her frown

There’s something completing, Love-lies-a-fleeing,
Says Death through her red velvet lips,
For lies are in meeting, and lies are in greeting,
But Love-lies-within earthen hips.

For something’s completing when Death comes defeating
Her friends and her foes all too soon,
And hangman is cheating, but it’s only fleeting,
For everyone hangs in full bloom.

~Michael Danger Caskey

Published in: on October 11, 2012 at 7:14 am  Comments (1)  
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Amaryllis, the Nightly Amaranth

I never knew my Amaryllis well
Until she turned full bloom to Amaranth
Beneath the moon, and underneath that spell
Her petals fell, while mine were deviant.

She once was the white of innocent eyes,
The ones well-rested still unstained by red,
And I–yes I, the devil in disguise–
Spotted her in that sacred flower bed,

But in another light, by that dark sky
Her color bled, but fed on purple stain,
She bloomed again, her face unchanging dye,
While I was left behind–her red remained.

Her love lies bleeding now, and feeding on;
But truth be told, she feasted all along.

~Michael Danger Caskey

Published in: on October 10, 2012 at 1:58 pm  Leave a Comment  
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