Hello everyone!
There are two poems I’ve been working on and would like some opinions on. I’ve been looking at the two for a while now, and there are a couple of lines that I am considering removing, which are highlighted in bold. Anyway, I don’t have any real specific questions, so I apologies if I leave it hard for you to frame a response. Let me know what you like or dislike, and I’ll do my best to give your work feedback in return.
The first piece, ‘Anubis’ is a piece of writing eroticising an appeal for death. ‘Chimera’ is about feelings of self-image.
Anubis, I Come to Thee
Dissipated down into swirls of the midnight blue dunes,
The beat of the nekhakha stirs the shadows of the night.
I accept thy indictment of me, thou hast claimed my heart.
Come, remove my vitals, take from me my heart,
And convey it to the sands in your canopic jar.
Remove from me this unknown mind of mine,
Whose thoughts I do not seem to know.
I accept thy indictment.
I offer myself up onto thee, and renounce
False claims of my soul’s previous term.
Come near me, and press your ebony splendour next to me,
Stain my fledgling soul dark with your godly mark.
Press your black snout against my nape,
And breathe your litanies into my flesh,
As you bring yourself upon my back,
As I tumble down into crooked tombs,
That you have perfumed for me.
Press upon me sacred writs, circle without pause.
Wrap me tightly with your hieroglyph spells.
Bite, and, mark me with the words between thy jaws.
Crook my wayward soul closer with your sceptre,
And beat from it the heresies with your flail.
I shall surrender only to thee.
As I stumble eyeless in the unseen dark.
Guide my wayward soul on to the horizon
Take me hence from what was,
And to what can only be, now that
The weighing is all done.
Pushed flat against the earth, you pant out the spells,
Turning my flesh into a fevered shiver,
And throw up the sands silver.
Cry out in the echo of the night,
And in a kiss, suck out my soul.
I shall no longer resist, and in the breath,
Sigh as you consummate our love.
Chimera
Come; sweeten my mood with pliable words
To push and press over this uneven form,
Like you have the divine power to absolve
Gordian knots, where twisted seams of flesh brood
The soul that uncaring God bestowed unto me.
I shall contort these lips to their born suit;
Snarl and howl my own hateful litanies
To stop your paltry breath, to stay your kind deceits.
Do not insult my eyes, seeing despite hateful colour,
That my nakedness is no heavenly virtue.
Yet still you wield your petty incantations,
And load upon me great libations poured
From your glistening tongue, as if I am blind.
You’d rather lavish it upon her body.
Thou sweet-lipped sycophant, I shall watch,
Try to kiss away my scars with ethereal lips.
Steel yourself, the silk-robed hierophant,
As you dredge my deep flesh for signs sacred
Of Beauty, or of Gods within me,
That as if the master of this warped flesh
Could never discern it was there?
Now can you expect me to smile, as if these lips
Can form a semblance of that gilded guise;
This is the hollow kiss, signifying nothing.