Poetry is a Kiss

By : Gus Victoria

The Kiss (Lovers) - Gustav Klimt 1908-1909

Poetry is a kiss,

Eloquence is a glance

Hidden behind the veil,

Betrayed by a dance.

My body is yours,

Model of imperfection,

Not by your word,

But my own fatal perception.

Let my touch

Arouse your desire,

Passion untold,

Unquenchable fire.

Tonight unforgettable

We may, in arms embraced,

Dream together,

Of another place.

Before we journey,

Let me know

You fully,

Never let go

Our story written,

Remembered hereafter.

Each kiss a poem,

Each night a chapter.

At the Bottom of the Bottle

By: Gus Victoria

At the bottom of the bottle I chased the void,

It consumed me before the first drink,

Emptiness without reason,

A sip and another,

I slipped and didn’t even bother,

The nectar was relief,

For the mind stumbled

The heart grumbled

And friends stood in disbelief;

“Who is this Libertine?

That in knowledge walks,

And dances so debauched?”

My soul then I bared

There with the glass held,

“I am the poet,

That finds the words

To show how odd the worlds

We straddle are to our souls;

I am the artist

That paints reflections

Beyond the facade.

To the interior,

Bitter melancholy of unlived potential,

A drought we all drink

As in depression we sink.”

Freedom is found in the naked acts

That others blush at

The joy of sensual pleasure

When in respectful agreement

Is enjoyed measure for measure.

At the bottom of this bottle before the void

I find the courage to explore...

The Clown Cried

By : Gus Victoria

The verse was one delivered by a master,

Improvised truth practiced to perfection

On a stage made home

That was never so,

He knew love and admiration,

He knew struggle and derision,

Dark shadows played

Wherever light was,

He was a clown

The world adored,

He lived and gave,

He struggled and he paid,

Ever the gentle soul,

We’d never know

The sadness within

That consumed,

That devoured

The noble man.

One day the sun rose

To never set,

The Clown cried,

But the laughter,

The joy, the memories,

They never died,

And we would never forget.

Diana

By: Gus Victoria

An overconfident man,

Through this dense growth of weedy lies

And ever so sweet fragrant flatteries

Blazes his path,

Like rain drops on oilcloth,

Words slough off,

He ventures on,

Seeking the next discovery,

Ink he draws with his pen

As others blood with blade,

Movement on the page

Gathers as a storm

The meaning he intends,

Sorcery to the uninitiated

Is art in his skilled hand,

Fated to wither as it blooms,

For the master upon the virgin mistress

One day in thoughtless joy intrudes,

His heart in an instant burns with desire

For the goddess of his passion,

Her stare, empty and cool

Causes his senses to flee

And the poet struck becomes the fool,

Orpheus in an moment turns to Actaeon,

She, Diana that sends him away.

No Marker, No Grave

By: Gus Victoria

The myriad thoughts of the mind are freed

And in chaotic order dance anew,

A moment of weakness

Fulfills a lifetime of strength,

No temple to shame,

No doctrine to defile,

No blame to seek,

Guilt is a garment unworn,

To the fire consigned,

Justice is the new badge,

Dogma no more;

Words in the wind

From the granite slabs

Ground to dust,

Dry corpse by the vulture devoured,

No marker,

No grave,

Faith lives on,

Religion is forever dead.

Strangers Walking Away

By: Gus Victoria

Holding on to the ember,

Fire left its scar,

Soon only ash,

Consuming hope,

There was little left,

Faith withered long ago,

Only habits lingered,

Passion ran once,

A mighty river it carried them,

Empty dust about

Strands them,

Each walks in a different direction,

To seek what might revive

What could not be lost,

Each remembers a vision

That changes with time.

She was dark when he was light,

She was day when he was night,

Alternating in their own way,

One and the other,

Friends and lovers.

Strangers walking away,

Kicking the Cage

By: Gus Victoria

Hostage to your ignorance,

We kick the cage

In righteous rage!

Oppressive oligarchy,

We kick the cage

In righteous rage!

Elected leaders

By your vote

Hold you back.

Elected leaders

Fuck you ten times

Before you fight back.

We kick the cage

In righteous rage!

There is blood you drew

By inaction spilt,

Innocence shattered,

Ammo gathered,

Guns gathered

By a diseased mind

A murderous trigger pulled,

We kick the cage

In righteous rage!

On the pile of bones

From children gathered

You demanded as price

To ignore responsibility

You rejoice in death,

You call it a right

You spew hate,

Fuck your ignorance,

Your Reagan too,

The second Amendment

The murder weapon

Of the nation

You fight for

As all your leaders

Fuck your corpse.

Few survivors…

Kick the cage

In righteous rage!

Burning Bridges

By: Gus Victoria

The bridge built strong once

In decay now spans precariously,

Made decrepit by negligence,

Oxidized in its own haughty air,

Weighed down by superior disdain

Cast upon those that built,

And those that cross

By the Keepers of the Span,

Honor is theirs to squander,

Authority they've spent,

Bankrupt now beyond their owns skins

That like Argus they watch,

Blind to all else,

Truth of purpose

Weak before the habit of corruption,

Caring souls

Labeled disobedient,

Perpetrators of poor judgment,

Reprimanded for inefficient conformity,

The bridge postpones its fate

As obstacles multiply,

Defying its own nature,

The bridge stands feebly

Until that humble soul

With clear vision

Sets it aflame,

The bridge burns!

Embers dance in the night.

The bridge burns!

Leaderless, the wolves scatter.

The bridge burns!

They that in arrogance walked,

Now in despair kneel.

The bridge burns!

Angels, Lilith and Eve

By: Gus Victoria

It took an angel to break the heart

For years entrusted in her care,

And though in despair I walked

Stiffly with an unhealing wound

I found another angel

To take the shattered pieces,

To, from the shards of a useless heart,

Make something,

An image of what once was,

An imperfect creation

That love then shaped

To something new

Cherished and beloved,

Never did I forget Paradise,

Nor Lilith.

Yet in Eve I found a match,

That was my own

Partner in a strange world,

Not the fantasy I dreamt,

The reality sent,

That for need I was in want,

She is faithful,

Where Lilith betrayed

The trust I threw away.

One became the mother of all,

The other a demon of lust,

Fantasy of a world unborn...

The Flying Dutchman

By: Gus Victoria

Bloodstained deck ever slick,

With vengeance and regret thick,

No man walks steady,

No spirit unweighted,

The Captain in his cabin hides,

From the wraiths and shades that cry,

Hold full of treasure,

Soul empty by every measure.

The crew waits,

Married to the sea,
She is their mistress.

For those on shore

She dances at the edge of recollection,

Her mast in the wind strong, sails full,

Cutting through the endless expanse,

Now shattered on the reef she waits,

A ghost carrying ghosts,

To rise once more,

To sail anew.

There is no refuge,
There is no safe harbor,
On moonless nights she rises,
Across an ink-black sea she sails,
A desperate search for salvation
Not in forgiveness found,
A bleak harvest raised
In blood to drown for a night,
The angry calls of the dead,
That raise a chill fright,
Striking the stoutest heart with dread, 
The calls that the Captain knows well,
Harbingers of his eternal Hell.