Past Lifetimes (a poem)

in dreams, i tremble

before unseen forces

always at work behind

scenes & a screen

of smoke that masks their faces

but not beaming eyes

that stare from shadowed corners

of my brain

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The Sirens (a poem)

Listen to these sirens sing, see how beautiful they are –

from afar, their chanting quickens my pulse + my

body aches with desire – but beware of this fire

that consumes mortal men, traps them,

sends them to the bottom of stormy seas,

lungs filled with saltwater ‘till life is no more –

sure, you’d like to see these maidens up close,

see their golden skin glow – if only I could

rip off these ropes! I hope their insanely sweet songs

don’t drive my mind to an oblivion from which

I shall never return – how I burn to see them,

to free them! But wouldn’t their voices unleash

destruction upon the masses?

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