Autumn to Winter

 

(Photo by Lester Hine on Unsplash)

Autumn to Winter

by Dawn Pisturino

The old year is fading

and Autumn blows

the misty clouds

of Winter our way.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Vampire - Charles Baudelaire

 

The Vampire

by Charles Baudelaire

You who, like the stab of a knife,

Entered my plaintive heart;

You who, strong as a herd

Of demons, came, ardent and adorned,

To make your bed and your domain

Of my humiliated mind

-- Infamous bitch to whom I'm bound

Like the convict to his chain,

Like the stubborn gambler to the game,

Like the drunkard to his wine,

Like the maggots to the corpse,

-- Accurst, accurst be you!

I begged the swift poniard

To gain for me my liberty,

I asked perfidious poison

To give aid to my cowardice.

Alas! both poison and the knife

Contemptuously said to me:

"You do not deserve to be freed

From your accursed slavery,

Fool! -- if from her domination

Our efforts could deliver you,

Your kisses would resuscitate

The cadaver of your vampire!"

~Charles Baudelaire~

(Translated by William Aggeler, from The Flowers of Evil)

BIO: Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) was a French poet, art critic, essayist, and translator whose innovative style influenced such poets as Paul Verlaine, Stephane Mallarme, and Arthur Rimbaud. A close friend of painter Edouard Manet, he is best known for his collection of poems, The Flowers of Evil.

October Sunrise

 

Photo by Dawn Pisturino.

October Sunrise

by Dawn Pisturino

Orange cotton candy balls

Burst across the sky,

Playing peek-a-boo with Mr. Sun,

Slowly rising from his slumber,

A comical clown dressed in lemon yellow.

~

Dawn Pisturino

Poem and Photo: Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

Song of Autumn

 

(Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash)

Song of Autumn

I

Soon we shall plunge into cold darkness;

Farewell, strong light of our too brief summers!

I already hear falling, with funereal thuds,

The wood resounding on the pavement of the courtyards.

All of winter will gather in my being: anger,

Hate, chills, horror, hard and forced labor,

And, like the sun in its polar hell,

My heart will be only a red icy block.

I listen shuddering to each log that falls;

The scaffold which is being built has not a hollower echo.

My mind is like the tower which falls

Under the blows of the indefatigable heavy battering ram.

It seems to me, lulled by the monotonous thuds,

That somewhere a casket is being nailed in great haste.

For whom? Yesterday it was summer; here is autumn!

This mysterious noise sounds like a departure.

II

I love the green light of your long eyes,

Sweet beauty, but everything today is bitter for me,

And nothing, neither your love, nor the boudoir, nor the hearth,

Is worth as much to me as the sun shining over the sea.

But despite all that, love me, tender heart! be maternal,

Even for an ingrate, even for a wicked man;

Lover or sister, be the passing tenderness

Of a glorious autumn or of a setting sun.

A brief task! The grave is waiting; it is avid!

My head resting on your knees, let me

Enjoy, as I grieve for the white torrid summer,

The yellow gentle ray of the earlier season!

~Charles Baudelaire, translated by Wallace Fowlie, from The Flowers of Evil~

BIO: Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) was a French poet, art critic, essayist, and translator whose innovative style influenced such poets as Paul Verlaine, Stephane Mallarme, and Arthur Rimbaud. A close friend of painter Edouard Manet, he is best known for his collection The Flowers of Evil.

 

Autumn Equinox

 

Autumn Equinox

by Dawn Pisturino

The autumn equinox

brought the first morning dew

sparkling in the sun

like tiny crystals

welcoming a new day

September 22, 2022

Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

BIO: Dawn Pisturino is a retired nurse in Arizona whose publishing credits include poems, limericks, short stories, and articles. Her poetry has appeared in these anthologies: World Poetry Anthology, 1987; Best New Poems of 1988; Great Poems of Today, 1987; New American Poetry Anthology, 1988; National Poetry Anthology, 1988; American Poetry Anthology, 1988; Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women, 2022. In 2007, she had her own health and wellness column in the Kingman Daily Miner and published articles in The Standard and the Bullhead City Bee. Her poems, limericks, short stories, and articles have appeared in MasticadoresUSA, Underneath the Juniper Tree, Brooklyn Voice, Danse Macabre du Jour, Psychic Magic Ezine, Working Writer, and others.  She has several novels in progress. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America and the Arizona Authors Association.

Boudica's Soliloquy

 

Boudica's Soliloquy

by 

Dawn Pisturino

Foul deeds of war  have broken me.

Come, smell the blood! Hear the moans of the dying!

The corpses of my daughters lay silently at my feet,

Shamed and murdered by our Roman tormentors.

Colchester and London -- what glorious victories! --

The blood flowed freely from Roman wounds.

They howled in rage as they died. How we cheered!

But Rome's crawling legions caught us in their snare,

And now, we are vanquished.

Britannia is no more. Weep for a chastised people!

No longer Queen, I am marked for death.

No longer Mother, I will not be consoled.

No longer Wife, I burn with revenge.

I lift the flask of poison to my lips, tasting the bitterness in my mouth.

I will lie here with my daughters, my shield across my breast

And my spear by my side, and welcome Death with honor.

Published in the June 2022 Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women anthology, #1 Amazon best-seller in New Releases of Poetry Anthologies. Available now on Amazon in print or Kindle.

Amazon Description:

“Award-winning authors, Pushcart nominees, emerging poets, voices of women and men, come to the fore in this stunning, powerful, and unique anthology. Their poems testify to the challenges that women face in our society, and to their power to overcome them. A memorable collection of over 200 poems by more than 100 authors, this anthology is a must-have for anyone. We all can benefit from the poetry of survival, and of healing. We all can benefit from the experiences so beautifully evoked in this book. We can all come together to emerge triumphant from pain.”

~

Dawn Pisturino

September 6, 2022

Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

Joe Biden

 

Joe Biden

The decrepit old fool in the White House

With creaky jaws

Squeaks out lie after lie

Until nobody believes him anymore.

~ Dawn Pisturino ~

Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.