Noxalio

note to all

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Mon, 02 May 2011 15:31:00 +0000

on a little break
from blogger (mainly due to time constraints)

please do not get offended
if i don't reply to comments
as promptly as i normally do.

back in a few days, i think, i hope

be well.

my aria

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 04:52:00 +0000

my aria
let me be antiphon
for our song

you, diapason
writhe
but clear and strong

our intricate melody
interwoven
in polyglot form

i will be heartbeat
in rhythm and concord

my prima donna

each coda
our promise to return
with every movement
a story
to unfurl

remember
even though
release
at the end
is curtain
to our embrace
it is never sayonara
but parole
for à bientôt

till our next
dress rehearsal.

unravelment

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 17:44:00 +0000

it's the absence
my ghost
which binds us

now

an almost nudge
telegraphs
through silence

a splice
takes hold

untangles
overnight

ether-born
a guidance

our light
our song

of grafts & flower
of fruit
infused with spice

of how once
we were lost

my love

in plain sight.

"Dance Me to the End of Love" by The Civil Wars

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Thu, 21 Apr 2011 15:09:00 +0000

my breath

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 19:57:00 +0000

my breath
this is not about love
nor how a soul
finds solace
sometimes
in incidental burrows
it stumbles upon
why "fits like a glove"
cliche or not
has much prevalence
in realms
of idolatrous metaphor
nor why
alone
although so brief
is such firm companion
of longing
& angst
oh no
this is simply
about why
on the spur of a moment
a smile grows & glows
inexplicable
when intentional gazes interlock
yes
it's all about
impermanence
my cloud.

how does spring

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 16:48:00 +0000

how does spring
end, my dove
does it blend
and bleed into summer-
love or will it
run along another bend
which leads to station
of abandoned town
with sun-bleached signs
of forgotten name
and porters
who are but ghosts
of former selves
its dusty platform
with boarded-up halls
strewn with tumbleweed
blown-in by Chance
discarded there
as though runaway
or progeny of refugees
as i?

once upon a time

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 04:46:00 +0000

once upon a time
i feared
i'd forget who you were

for i knew time
had designs to rob
fidelity

from memory
recall of exactness
of tone of voice

the subtle hues & shades
surrounding irises
i so adored

the precise station
of dimples
on your face

which came alive
under a smile
even if so scanty

besides
you always had
a penchant for hiding

behind veils
and glass
which made close regard

that much
more of a needle
my love

for that
i've carried your laughter
voice in a box

on constant playback
emblazoned your likeness
onto my retinas

eyes
your fire brands
wide with glee

and lowered glance
if embarrassed
ever so slightly

and for safe measure
i engraved your name
onto my arms

but to be blunt
none of these acts
have sufficed

to thwart ravages
of illusory
lifespan apart

my ghostly imp
its high jinks have had
the upper hand

i'm scared
you are fading
in me.

let certainties turn

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Thu, 14 Apr 2011 21:41:00 +0000

let certainties turn
murky today:

walls, defuse
ambiguous

while roof tiles fray
to thatched
cinders shift clear—
almost translucent

sharp memories
& thought
blur, i say

nudge, you are swapped
for push
grip, become brush
& yank a gentle tug
and touch!

now, ask of me
what you require
my love

for order
as genial appeal
on a single day or more
is not much of a task.

i remember

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Thu, 14 Apr 2011 04:20:00 +0000

i remember
you said
i am

the one
who loves
you

you
& no one
but

then
proceeded to
draw

rare
strands
of pearl

through your
puckered
mouth

the first four
a striking
rose

tightly strung
on a wire
then one

pale ceil
which was
oblong

diffuse
as the early
sky

another four
followed
and on

until
at last
a glass

fish hook
along
with

urgent
desire
to trammel.

my delicate

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 05:08:00 +0000

my delicate
sunset:

harbinger
of lacuna
& uproar

utterly intertwined
you are
my most dangerous
hour

thankfully
always retired

by dawn

fire

bound

by day-
glow

equal
part
salvation
as torture.

jasmine

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 05:30:00 +0000

jasmine
did not bloom
last spring

in the fall
trees shed leaves
while still

green
but that was
par for the course

given the foulness
of decisions
delayed

elongating
distance from
heart to soul

to the point
of a single snap
as though mono-

filament
whose gauge was
ill chosen

for a task
and awesome caliber
of game

now, my love
it's almost blackberry
winter here

once again
you are still
nowhere

& i, a kite
whose lines are
knots

with you
my Gordian
tangle.

my starlight

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 18:17:00 +0000

for ash

my starlight

you
prize
being

intent

as rainbow
by night-
glow?

you know
you vowed
the moment
you formed

i would bend
and bow

from windfall
to zenith
spiraling around
your arc

grateful

i found
no cause
to stray
from my charge

although
your cadence
was syncopated
your fidelity--
welcome
& pure

light

i was prism
to the slant
of your rays

you:
steadfast beacon

in mist
& rain.

i know very little

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 16:51:00 +0000

i know very little
English, you said
and proceeded
to recite:

I took her hand
in mine,
and we went out
of the ruined place;

and, as the morning mists
had risen long ago
when I first left the forge,
so the evening mists
were rising now,

and in all
the broad expanse
of tranquil light
they showed to me,
I saw no shadow

of another parting
from her

then added:

but i am filled
with Great Expectations

and perceptibly
faded

for good.

my windsong

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 19:01:00 +0000

my windsong;
you are nothing

but my obsession

to transcribe
language
of the heart
into phantomness
of breath;

cacophony
of echo
and memory

forever
intertwined.

braids are what provide

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 03:21:00 +0000

braids are what provide
the allure, "and refuge"
is what you tell yourself

with arms over my shoulders
around my neck, you nuzzle close
and in wispy voice, whisper:

"i'm certain you will never
forget me, for my lips
are brands which outline
my name"

my beacon, by now i have
memorized every ruffle
of your likeness. besides
for astrals the universe
is archive

not one kiss has ever gone amiss
in the contours of their space

& i am confident, we are ...

we carry aspects

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Sat, 02 Apr 2011 02:06:00 +0000

we carry aspects
of semblance
you and i

beyond brittle armor
& frailty of heart?

almondine eyes
for instance
our handle

today, i am echo
but you've always known
my name

yes, my peppermint cloud
you are in every breath i take

now, imagine love
as i have for eons

shudder and flail
as pennant in its windstorm?

i swear, my timeless shroud
its downpour is imminent

as foreseen ...

some eventualities simply exist

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 16:52:00 +0000

some eventualities simply exist
and nothing is completely original

nor in a way singular
but for the shape of impulse
as expressed at the extremes

equidistant from cutting-edge frontier
to fleeting serenity at fulcrum
where evanescent peace scarcely persists

"i am more real than any nepenthe dream"

my divine sentinel, order there is ephemeral—
as tranquil as it is in the eye
of swirling uproar.

then, Charity

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 05:25:00 +0000

for Dannie

then, Charity
unexpectedly vanished
corralled it seems
by one of many sunless deities
sporting broad, irresistible smiles

in the ensuing clamor
for incidental engagement
amidst the hovering throng
a courtship of waxing moon
& waning star

we each stumble
toward infernal fissures

bluff & precipice
home to unknowns
scores of faceless
transient demigods

two souls careening
toward the other's
nameless abyss

my love
this is when some angels are born
when others are destined to fall
victim
to earthly desire
for succor & rapture
as touchstone

my fleeting shooting star
although brutally detached
at least for now
i am certain

you are home.

shrapnel

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 01:49:00 +0000

shrapnel
like

when that irresistibly
delicate
glass ornament
laden with memories
of the bygone
fell off its precarious
perch

unexpectedly

& with a sudden pop
cracked

hopelessly
shattering

a million
little mirrors
were born that night

scattering

years hence
some still jab soles
& toes

making bare skin
bleed

like dark metallic shadow
of dramatic makeup.

i am fury

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Tue, 22 Mar 2011 23:55:00 +0000

i am fury
incarnate

a fortnight
is eternity
when i'm aroused
or provoked

i am present

i'll parade
swirling
for as long as
i've chosen

i scour
élan
& sanctum
alike

gallivant
with chumps
whose bravado
i cozen

they will embrace me
and i shall feign
love for them

drain every droplet
of life
from their
spine

leave
their lips
crusted

hearts
pockmarked

how
souls are made
barren
as parched desert
dust

amber
and
rust

why sand
is skin toned
awash
with fragments
of shattered
bone

i have arrived

i'll depart
when i want
more.

let us unfurl

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 22:06:00 +0000

let us unfurl
everything

wings
sails
hearts
& sentiments

this is
what storms are for

let us soar

darling

by defiance
is how
tempest
and turmoil
are tamed

historians
make note
of this

how else
is ache
for halcyon
imagined?

give little

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 23:04:00 +0000

give little
credence
to what i say.
my idiom
is cortege
of emotion today

my love
in essence

this road
with no turns
as impossible
as it appears
is what i covet

my fugitive
runaway

cureless
incline
my refuge
still
my carriage
forever elongates

to you

yes

always
downhill.

my rose petal

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 02:56:00 +0000

my rose petal
are you lost once again
amid coffee trees and apricot
groves?

quivering in wind that emanates
from deep within phyletic forest
routinely pretending to be home?

it's come to this
in increments

by wantonly crafted spinnings
of make believe deities
rigged as sultans and kings

wordy beings
wielding documents
as armament
drunk for millennia
having shot
just one thimble
of our totemic brandy.

don't worry, my wild strawberry
starting today, attention
to every murmur paves your way—
figs and quinces and almonds
will sustain you along your
precarious journey.

my sweet vagabond
if you stay, as always
beware

crossroads
are treacherous places
for homes.

fleeting

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 16:01:00 +0000

fleeting
as specter
in mirror
shadow-jumps
from heart to mind
to gut

& back
over

insidious—
reiterates
that which is excised
& hollow long

nameless
by design
in universal tenor
wayfarer wind-song
mills on

& on:

this is where you
belong ...

Babenagan Guiliguia - KOHAR With Stars of Armenia ... Պապենական Կիլիկիա

noreply@blogger.com (Noxalio) — Tue, 15 Mar 2011 19:22:00 +0000

for all refugees and non-refugees alike ... of diaspora and home ... not all fairytales are fictional ...

geography, what is it, really? space or distance or a place in the heart? ... and history: a chaotic spiral of time ... mother of poetry and music ... melody , rhythm and rhyme ... all universal ...

it's sublime ... enjoy ...

you can read more about Կիլիկիա or Cilicia, the place and time, here ...