A few short poems

A collection of short poems that will otherwise go unpublished, so I’m grouping them together here instead. Some of these have previously been posted to Twitter, so apologies if there is a bit of a repetition.

Half Moon Bay

The roar of the Ocean
Rules and narrow margins.
You stole my heart away
When we were in Half Moon Bay.

Morning Commute

Basic bitches in the back of the bus,
Shit sprawled all over the place.
I’ve never understood pumpkin spice lattes,
Maybe it’s the only spice they get in their lives
Future soccer moms and housewives.

(This was undeniably a morning rant)

Montreal

Ice in the night
Looks like latex
Brought to a shine
By an obedient little slave.

Submission

Subservient Subs
Surrendering Subconsciously
to Subliminal Subspace
like the Subspecies Subordinates
they long to be.

Succubus 1

Cry me your soul,
Let my hands slowly deprive you.
Oxygen fleeing, haggard existence
What does it feel like
To know that when you kiss me,
You are kissing death?

Montebello

A colourless day draws on
In cold observation of privilege
By the light of a dozen flames
Patagonia and Gucci abound
Wood, stone, and stained glass
The Succubus laughs silently
As loveless marriages melt away
On this crisp winter’s day

Melt

Time of spring
Icicles turned water
Frozen again
Time to slip

Bard Bits – Innocence

He marvelled at her innocence
Shining through in the darkness
An ethereal light amongst the shadows
Blissfully cradled in his arms
She was his angelic little slut.

Bee Mine

Darkness before dawn
A wasp flies up a mountain
Spread thighs await

Ode to a Fern

Leaning towards dying foliage
Desperate whispers part my lips
“I’ll cherish you forever.”
Fronds amiss, you sink into oblivion

Succubus 2

Create a void in me, so I lose sight
Embrace the upheaval of my thighs
Mountainous strength from beneath
As I erode myself into your world
Eager monster forsaking the gods
Devouring, until only the shell remains

© 2018 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

February

Originally written on February 8, 2014

As the brisk cold caressed our faces,
On this slow Sunday on a Saturday.
The Universe came to a halt.

I watched through the window,
A statuesque passerby smiling.
The traits of their frozen face,
Speaking a language beyond words.

On slow Sundays on a Saturday,
It feels like I’m floating above the world.
Every step feels like I’m on the moon.
Maybe the moon looks down on me,
Envious of my lack of gravity.

Slow Sundays on Saturdays,
Make the winter nostalgia lessen.
The numbing cold becomes Lavender,
Or a rainbow of Spring flowers.
The sound of a jazz piano,
Amidst the deafening silence of this day.

Come take a walk with me,
On this slow Sunday on a Saturday.
Watch the world through the eyes of
A minstrel of the moon…

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Anisoptera – For J

Ephemeral emerald iridescence
Envelops the fragility of your oblong form
Barely seen, a flutter of translucent wings
Surrenders your position, caught in a ray of light
Enticed by the Succubus, like a moth to a flame

Your many eyes see beyond her carnal shell
Contemplating the woes of the disconnected
Shimmering belonging, you glisten in the sun
Of the one you love, now, then, and tomorrow
Until the cycle starts anew; a natural order
Reborn from the cold, dark, depths of the pond.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Gods and Heathens

Remote locations
Ignite and unfurl deep passions,
As Pele and Kamapua’a
Bear witness, shedding tears of joy.

Feasting on energies,
Primordial and long forgotten.
The Succubus Lilith devours
Humble servants of the flesh
In resolute embrace.

Up, down, beneath, above
Through and through
Bodies intertwining
Beyond understanding.
A tapestry of lust,
Woven by Arachne herself.

The echo of desperation:
A hand longing to grasp
Harder… Harder. Harder!

((((((((( Resonates )))))))))

Through soft pine like
Hephaestus’ thundering blow.

Warm breaths on soft skin
Cries forever lost in a pillow
Beating hearts,
Trying to rip themselves
From their carnal shells.

Symphonic melodies give way
To carnal compositions
Orchestrated by Pan,
Playing the body of Syrinx
In the form of a flute.
Plaintive gasps and tortured cries,
Frozen in time, forever…
Only relieved by the echo of our love.

Sous la lune

A la tendresse de la lune,

J’entrelacerai tes doigts dans les miens

Afin de mieux sentir résonner

La fréquence de ton âme.

Dreams

Occasionally when floating on my boat of dreams,
I become aware of the nebulous sea of regret rippling under my vessel.
Am I living in a constant state of denial,
Or am I simply appreciative of better times?

Occasionally my smile crisps itself into a stone line,
And my thoughts race back to another side of my mortal reality.
Am I just another memory to one of my memories,
Or am I flesh and bone that can be touched?

Occasionally I hear the pitter patter of the rain on a tin roof,
And it brings me back to a long ago place I once knew.
Am I sure the sensory appreciation is real,
Or am I simply a projection of a non-existent former self?

Occasionally I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders,
And it seeps down into my hidden soul.
Am I truly awake and aware of my existence,
Or am I merely dreaming…


Poem written in 2015.

© 2018 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

🔥👄🍑❤️🌸🔥👄🍑❤️🌸

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