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Best Poems From
EVON CHRISTIAN
(1989-)
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5.
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The Analysis of Ink in a Glass
As I had finished writing poetry with a calligraphy pen, I held it haphazardly over a translucent glass. A tiny driblet of ink sinuously slid off the pen tip and into the liquid. I watched the dropp permeate the water with whirling motions until the uppermost portion of the water was occupied with ink. At that time, a thousand tiny droplets depressed towards the bottom of the glass like anguished souls. The color was now a solid, sullen black....
With wide-spread eyes
I saw the ink drip into purity
Ripping the crevice of my very heart
And pouring in sweet bitterness-
A sickness without remedy
Verily I remembered then
The hand which held the pen
That lacerated my frangible soul
Being my very own
(In a pit of self-destruction
I inattentively dived in)
My black heart beats
To taint my systematic veins
Transparent through my skin
The very thing which offered life
Now aides in my demise
Like a glass
I am, I am
Oh, heart!
You are likewise.
Evon Christian
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6.
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The flower-of-an-hour was always cruel
The flower-of-an-hour was always cruel
And never shown in your everyday smile,
When walking about in the snowfall
You said, we are for each other,
Ill reprove when the suns bedridden
And the moons dancing in the heavens,
Young lovers will all laud you, but the smile
Of your portrait grows dim and diluted,
As the waning of the moon, less and less
As a crescent-but barely.
Evon Christian
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7.
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The Words Never Uttered on Our Breath
The words never uttered on our breath
Created a silence that was deafening to the heart,
The icy halos, casting crowns at our footsteps
When all love has been misled,
The tempest brewing behind my gasping eyes,
To see the rain at night, the ghastly wails
Creating lacerations at your soul,
To forget the voice which said my name
With such beauty never heard before.
Evon Christian
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8.
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Young Love is.
I never knew how something fragile
And beautiful
could exhaust itself before me,
Or how even the immaculate have flaws;
I should have realized by now
That love was selfish and imperceptive,
But guided by an easy craze
young love is
To have that simple feeling,
Which provokes and disdains all others.
Evon Christian
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