Scylla Grand

A poem from Scarlet Shadows:“Rice and Tea”Inside the burning cup of tea,
a grain of rice begins to sink.
I slide a piece of ice beneath -
a single floatie in the sea -
and smile to myself, relieved,
like someone kind had rescued me.

More Poetry Samples

"Lethal"Our team became forbidden wings:
a crude construction challenging
the lofty sun, the summer sky;
a flock of feathers matched in might;
a codex held together, bound
by rivalry, like sky and ground.
We glided in the orange heat
in practiced choreography.
Like Icarus, we climbed the sky
and touched it at its noble height.
We knew no better feat than this:
to make the golden sun eclipsed.
But at the peak our bond collapsed;
we scattered free, as melted wax
relieved us of our source of pride.
We shone like blades of lethal ice,
an avalanche of ceaseless dreams
cascading down to meet the sea.

“Planes”The people dance on floors of stone.
They never stop nor blink, despite
my being helplessly alone.
They glide like airplanes stuck in flight:
a world that functions on its own.
And I, a distant oversight,
think maybe planes can’t turn around
to entertain a second glance
at those who watch them from the ground.
The song compels them all to dance;
I move toward the lilting sound -
and lose them in the dark expanse.
The shadows swallow up the street,
the song a wistful lullaby.
I dance alone, a bittersweet
pursuit. Without discerning why,
I falter for a single beat
to watch the murky, muted sky.
I sometimes wonder, could it be -
that plane forever passing through
the evening’s airy filigree
has lost me in the darkness too;
and there is someone missing me
as much as I am missing you.

“Betrayal Is”Betrayal is a fruitless seed
that cannot grow and may not leave.
But I don’t mind her company.
She’s not her mother, nor is she
a badge of how her mother won
and scraped the insight off my tongue,
and chipped my teeth, and cut my lip.
I see myself, a lurching lich
of charcoal black and vulgar ridges,
stretched and bent.
How beautiful, betrayal shows
upon my face.
And in her mother’s place, I hold
Betrayal’s hand until she goes.

“Fury”My fury is a sterile white -a sky of constellations lost
in melding with the morning light.
A million vivid hues exhaust
my eyes, but still my vision thrives.
In darkness, I saw nothing wrong.
In daytime, now - the truth arrives.
The words you murmured crawl along
my palm. In bliss, I watch them die.
I feel malicious, mad delightand laugh, as neither you nor I
will miss the blackness of the night.

© 2022 Scylla Grand