Buried moon, buried moon Who to talk about at noon When dreams are plundered by light And powdered in gold and charcoal dust. Crescent fairies are sad in the rouse and at falter to surmise the scanty slumbering traces that…
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Buried moon
Tagged with: iron poem, Iron poetry, Iulia Halatz, my poems, poem, poetry, reposting an old poem
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
Persephone’s dusk
Why can’t we sleep with the Gods? be with them turn their thoughts to foam touch and revere their lapis lazuli skin until myths flicker in the cave and the earth booms at their voices The rain from Olympus is…
Tagged with: Gervasio Gallardo art tribute, iron poem, Iron poetry, Iron tale, Iulia Halatz, poetry
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
Happiness
…Happiness is the uncle you never knew about, who flies a single-engine plane onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes into town, and inquires at every door until he finds you asleep midafternoon as you so often are during the unmerciful…
Tagged with: December poem, iron poem, Iron poetry, Iulia Halatz, love, poem
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Quote, Wordsmith
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Quote, Wordsmith
Moon fair
You are a fair moon-ray stinging my eyeballs whilst I wait for Mercury to fall the Titans to cry and tilting shadows to moor over conversing stars impatient to die and reborn a thousand times. Art by Johann Peter…
Tagged with: iron poem, Iron poetry, Iulia Halatz, moon poem, poetry
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
The Merman’s rhyme
He has no love but music and cold whispering trees that were in bloom under the last dim moon. He has seen the unseizable moors that glitter and dance in the wandering waves. He has crossed his Rubicon The enchantress’…
Tagged with: iron poem, Iron poetry, Iulia Halatz, Kinuko Y. Craft, poetry, rhyme
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
“Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.” -Iulia Halatz
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