17 Monday Jul 2017
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The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains — Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the night
Has been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness,
I learn’d the language of another world …
16 Wednesday Jan 2013
Tags
incest, lecherousness, lewdness, Lord Byron, lustfulness, Manfred, sister-brother love, sonnet, taboo
I.
Just the merest flutter of temptation
would make a courtesan or a scholar
or a saint wanton, shameless. Lord Byron
knew this. In his Manfred the dead sister
is a symbol of impossible lust.
II.
The mist on the mountain and on the moon
hint at pathways few dare to take. Disgust
is just regret turned in on itself. Soon
the fog of lustfulness, the tempest’s scar,
the night’s charioteer, will come for you.
III.
If you love me, give in, though I am far
away, give in to what we both would do.
You, who are neither nun nor sorceress,
be my sister, my taboo, my lewdness.
03 Monday Dec 2012
Tags
I had a terrible
last night
dreamed:
“The beasts
were all
gathered,
flood-wild,
safe within
Ararat’s shadow
by Lord Byron’s
sons and
daughters, lo!
Syn
appeared,
a dark hairless
waif
striding
upon the cresting waters.”
I, too, am a child
of Manfred.
I just wish
you had had more
faith
in me.
I can’t help
that I am
a creature
of river clay,
crude
and molded,
but you – you
kept finding fault
in everything.
Urchins
in my dreams
gave me
more love
than you
ever did
in this breathing
scarce half
made up
world.
I loved you,
but you,
after
thought,
hurt me.
memories of my ghost sista 