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Dena L. Moore

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Member Since: Jun, 2001

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A Plague Without Form
by Dena L. Moore

Saturday, September 15, 2007
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Dena L. Moore
•  Master Me As You Would The Wild Sea…
•  They Sing in the Silence
•  The Beautiful Beast, The Perverse Saint
•  The Song Undone and Haunting
•  The Bittersweet Intensity of the Shadows
           >> View all 121

It’s the silence -
So cold the bindings,
So warm the abrasions as it tightens,
Twists, strangles…
Each liquid drop filled with your essence,
Your phantom presence lingers,
A billowing cloud taunting -
You’re a plague without form
Luring me into the dark shroud of…this
This nothingness,
Such an inept void.

It’s the silence, you see,
This silence to be worn like a mantle
          (or a noose)
Wrapped about me, warping the buds
As they attempt to push through to the light…
No, they’re trampled now,
The weight of the hole increasing,
Choking on the fragility of dusk,
Sinking into the barren earth
As I fell so quietly into you.

It’s the silence of your touch,
The haunting gris-gris of you,
These sullen tightening chains
My confinement -
My salvation…

Dena L Moore
September 8, 2007


Thanks to everyone who has read and commented on my recent works!! Many blessings, D

Dena's Poetry: Poetry of Love, Loss, & the Occult
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Reviewed by Mitzi Jackson 9/19/2007
haunting and full with emotions
Reviewed by Chuck Keller 9/16/2007
Passionate words and great metaphor. Nicely done.
Reviewed by Kathy Armijo 9/15/2007
A truly haunting poem of love with exquisite imagery.

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