Some old poetry of mine

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(c) Phillip J Rhoades
"Nightingale"

My nightingale
even in your silence
I hear your song
Sweet with mournful pride
It echoes on the hills
As your eyes do in dreams
to linger though
the day
and inspire dreams again
Sing out sweet bird
let your voice
drown out shadows
of reflected past
Rise high
With wings spread
Rise higher
Than the sorrow
of your song
Soar
and let your plumage
become stars radiant
for ages all
to marvel
My Nightingale
Let your song
end silence
Let your flight
awaken dawn

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"Gift"

She burns a hole
Through the flesh of my heart
Slowly, slowly
A coal that drowns
In my blood
Igniting me
Extinguishing herself
As I grow bright
She dims
As I begin to live
She dies
My love awakens
And she is gone

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"Trick of Senses"

Her limbs trace mine
Like thin lines of ink
She holds onto me
Like shadow on skin
Light on water
I feel her
In a coolness there
A warmth here
But as I move to embrace
She vanishes
Like a trick of senses
Gone awry

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"Beauty Makes the Beast"

With
Bright eyes in ashen skin
faint curves like dreams
and spectral limbs
that wrap around
Bringing nails
Sharply into life
Drawing blood
Red with passion
Echoing screams
Rife with desire
She pulls me in
removes my calm
and leaves me bare
Full and beastly
Within her love

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"Not Me, Not You"

I am not me
I am a story
that you tell yourself
while you speak
to me
You are not you
You are a lie
that comforts
my aching
dreams

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"Won't Be Love"

This
This won't be love
It will be
Hotly satiating
Cooley searing
Blindingly fantastic
but
it won't be
love
Do you still
want this
want me

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Warmth Like Life

I am cold
and I need you
to warm my veins
It is not love
but desire
It is not passion
but resurrection
I can live
In your arms
Breathe as you moan
draw you close
and pretend
your heartbeat is mine
I am cold
and your warmth
is like life


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