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                                                                          Issue 8

Page 33

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He fell on the battlefield of eternity
slowly onto the red dirt of a beloved desert.

Gently spun by a Nordic breeze he had an instant
to ponder the memories carved upon the air.

Soon the burning realm would mean little to him
behind the million-year-old dunes.

Often he had contemplated the errant’s destiny
at peace within the ramparts of solitude.

Now the decay of a monument yet unfinished
began in the whisper of gentle sands.

A last feeble attempt reached for the towers
of the fortress crumbling into the heavy tomb.

The breast continued its fragile race
invisible already to the brush and its inhabitants.

One day he knew perhaps an unsuspecting saunterer
will stumble upon the ruins of this mysterious island.

Sleep comes now under the tepid cover of a dying fire
resting he imagines the first drop of morning dew.

Tomorrow will awaken without him
no one will sense his absence safe perhaps a void in the wind.

Fabrice B. Poussin__


My New Home

I awoke in a thickest night
laden with restless dreams
swimming in the rains of darkness.

Flesh upon satin my soul burnt
naked to the core seeking another home
I may have wiggled as once in the womb.

Discerning the fibers in burgundy ooze
I closed my eyes to plunge into a future
as so many dawns before to a fresh skin.

Near the alcove a memory lay
defunct on the undertaker’s icy tile
what I had been but hours before.

Snug inside the silk of my cocoon
every pore came alive with as many sighs
to deepest sleep I surrendered this life.

Fabrice B. Poussin__

Half-Way to the Dream

Looking down to the soft beat
beneath the bones of a growing child
I contemplate the little girl
at half-past life yet so young.

Through a gaze belonging to another
the distance grows to gentle amazement
as a touch perplexed by the discovery
encounters the shape of a blossoming.

Half-way to a hope I find her anew
constant since the beginnings a dream
in a firm stance she unveils a truth
like a warrior unwilling to capitulate.

At last it is complete
the mirror reveals the amazon
victorious under a statuesque figure
so I may submit to this grand epitome.

  Fabrice B. Poussin__


Pondering the Forgotten

Her soul naked she surrounds the palace
old of a few decades ruin of another time.

Walking in the tall reeds of the threatening marsh
she sets her ankles free in the caressing stream.

What might she find behind those absent windows
her breast shaken to its core fearing yet daring.

It might as well be a magnet pulling her within
an invisible grasp trying to hold her back.

But she continues under the thinning muslin
her flesh surrendering to the uncertain destiny.

Her gaze icy as a pure winter sky she spies
beyond the rotting sills of abandoned dreams.

There is only darkness beyond the shaggy walls
and a deep void for those who once walked these halls.

her entire being given to an absolute invasion
she becomes as the beacon to the forgotten ones.

She may vanish now, possessed with those souls
which once crowded the boards of so many dynasties.

  Fabrice B. Poussin__


Decades have flown by like comets in
the thick darkness of unknown spaces
leaving a gentle tail of magical sands.

He continues his steadfast journey
carefree through a dragnet of faces
without features, robots in a crowd.

Dim tales slowly vanish upon the cosmos;
will they subsist long enough to be captured
by the eyeless souls of those passers-by?

Choices are few for the invisible wanderer
making small waves with his feeble wings
no one notices the fierce fires of his pains.

He recalls a glimpse of those lovely days
when he imagined he could be seen
smiling at those who merely ignored him.

He can find no anchor in this odd diversity
alone his warmth turns to a frigid death
as the shooting star disappears for another century.

Closing those tired thoughts he is resigned
as he considers these lines once in darker ink
have now faded as he to oblivion.

  Fabrice B. Poussin__



An early gleam winked at the nascent babe
still in her bed of silk and gauze she murmured
the gentle shell slowly finding freedom.

The skin she so loved a thing of another life
stretching feeble arms from the chrysalis
she shivered nude beneath misty heavens.

Soon she will fly into the colors of a new birth
the fragile flesh of ancestors renewed
trembling with the ecstasy a ere touch arises.

She may not be long bearing the goddess’s aura
for she is sure to find another home to her soul
caressed by the eternal velum of all truths.

Within a snug envelope like a safe to her every fiber
she will relive her original birth time and again
all particles of her being smiling in their new home.

  Fabrice B. Poussin__