Sta.sh
Some examples of the group #the-5elements ! Don't hesitate to join us
lovecraft's oceansometimes i drown in memories
of bathymetric echoes
and those mad gods
vomiting up litanies and minerals
to tremble
poised and lethal
in the deep.
and darling there are
s t a r s
down there in the dark
in the space stirred only by those pale ghosts
and spinning galaxies
and i need to be
home again.
i need the salt on my tongue
in my lungs
and the mortality snowing down
grey drifts of whalebone and squidflesh
f a l l i n g
to that last
enveloping
embrace.
and i will never stop loving the ocean
because our deepest love is reserved for our deepest fears.
NymphTranslucent as
a dragonfly wing—
your hair fans
in the water, and
the sun bleeds.
Dark MotherBleed your colors to the ground,
let them swirl in the vortex of your breath.
The gathering chill escaped from your lungs
whispers the green earth into death.
Dark Mother, keep the spirits
you hold within your hands.
Souls eternally bidden,
soaked and seeped into the land.
Dark Mother, keep your fury
quivering deep within the ground.
Harm us not, but let us hear
the power of that sound.
The wheel is turning, always turning
as the sun falls from the sky.
Mother can you tell me,
oh can't you tell me why?
Dark Mother, stir your cauldron
deep living waters of rebirth.
Wash clean this wretched wreckage
we have wreaked upon the earth.
Dark Mother, shall we reap
all that we have sown?
When spring returns will you be there?
to light our path toward home?
The wheel is turning, always turning
as the seasons slowly die.
Mother can you tell me,
oh can't you tell me why?
Will you exhale a merciful breath,
to warm our world once more?
Or stop the wheel from turning,
leave us trappe
The clear resonance of the empty North(A title-poem // see the comment)
This morning, in the land of war,
the sky is clear and cold;
in a mild-winter, perhaps purgatory,
I wear the scent of blood in little white dresses.
Before the stars faded in the wispering silences,
a mouthfull of sky - with empathy for the lovers -
found me before I knew
la rêverie océane.
Thy pale death, o day, enchants me not.
Dark Mother, Aristotle got it right:
no temple for Euridice
sous les neiges éternelles,
full moon, ethereal
ashes
- they will always charm, I’m sure
on receipt of dead love.
Blue like a winter sky,
eternity comes of ether and animosity;
sweet nothings on
vikings shore
on Raw-Nature Feature 19 at 
