Minor Matter by Sarnia de la Maré FRSA from the Book of Immersion (Lyrics with a Biro)

Minor Matter

I'm just Minor Matter

That is all I am

Someone's passive income

Getting what they can

I am climbing sand dunes

Slippery ice under my feet

The Machine watches on

It feeds off my defeat

We are minor matter

The seeds we sow and scatter 

Grow weeds upon the streets of liberty

The machine has taken you 

and now its come for me

The machine don't care

It loves despair,

It's love's despair

It's stealing time like you wouldn't know

An atomic bomb and it's gonna blow

The hearts of children

in the poppy fields

The machine grew up 

And stole our dreams

© 2021 Sarnia de la Maré FRSA

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A Daily Poem by Sarnia de la Mare #poem #poetry #lyrics

Duality by iServalan for Tale Teller Club

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Duality

She stared at me,

From the sharpness

of the mirror.

Eyes black,

saddened by 

a life of cruel turns.

Her edges were blurred

by the echoes of herself.

the reflection reached out

begging to be touched

to be held as a mother would.

Always there.

These eyes!

following her everywhere she went.

A shadowed face

that wasn't quite her own.

One line cuts through

the center of everything,

she mused.

A boundary where

light and darkness

merge and pull apart.

Where truth whispers

in riddles to its opposite.

Between the black

and the white,

a world unfolds

where form distorts.

but meaning deepens.

where each angle

is a doorway to another

unseen reality.

Each half of her held

a piece of the whole,

a figure drawn

to both sides

a singularity

caught in the paradox

of existing 

everywhere

and nowhere

all at once.

Two faces,

one gaze

a dance in contrast,

a secret held

in the delicate

balance of what is

what was

and what might be

© 2024 Sarnia de la Mare

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Strata 1 Book of Immersion

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Strata 9 Book of Immersion

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New Shoes and Virginity Lost by the Marchioness of Dorchester 1650 #livepoetry #lust #love #passion

New Shoes and Virginity Lost by
Marchioness of Dorchester (circa 1650)


One day, twas June as I recall
A hue of morning dew
clung to my very form,
with all its secrets anew,
The virgin in me hovered,
though to her I felt distain
I wanted more than I dare say
Dear reader, I longed for play.

A gentleman,
Bold in his doublet and hose,
Caught sight of mine shoe,
So shapely and new.
His strengthening ardor rose,
I saw his longing face
So showed some lace
A shocking
Stocking!
With all its promise of pleasure.
Perhaps,
a new,
adventure.


Entranced by mine ankle so delicate and rare,
His eyes,
like bees to nectar,
lingered there.
I, demure and coy, feigned innocence well,
Yet mischief danced within his spell.

With a subtle lift of skirts, I did reveal
A glimpse calf, for passion's steal.

The gentleman's breath hitched,
pulse quickened pace,
As if Cupid himself had aimed true with ardor's grace.
He longed to touch that ankle.
Oh to kiss its curve,
To unravel the mystery it did preserve.
And so the virgin, her so doomed,
As the gent, up knee and calf then went
To a place I remember,
So divine

A place of plunder unconfined.


©2024 Sarnia de la maré FRSA

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