Bring Me Back

The perfect drizzle
defines the line between today and tomorrow
A morose specimen,
far too endearing to share with our peers
peers out of its receptacle;
a chill destroys its resolve
“if only pigs could fly,
then I’d get myself out of this darned mess.”
It thinks, unwillingly.

The home of a collector
is not to be taken lightly
on days where the sun’s power dwindles
and the comings of months of death
appear on the horizon.

One step at a time,
it creeps, occasionally lurching
towards a white cover of bliss.
Brought back to the silence
of a city’s breath drawn again
when a cloak of winter descends
leaving everything amiss.

At times, when the sea of stars seems
to lose itself in vastness of the night
I’ve often longed to hear crisp footsteps,
ones I’ve dreamt of ad-nauseam;
despite the harsh and cruel winter,
they echo the sound of my love’s path
finally finding its way back
into the warmth of my tender embrace.

A few short poems

A collection of short poems that will otherwise go unpublished, so I’m grouping them together here instead. Some of these have previously been posted to Twitter, so apologies if there is a bit of a repetition.

Half Moon Bay

The roar of the Ocean
Rules and narrow margins.
You stole my heart away
When we were in Half Moon Bay.

Morning Commute

Basic bitches in the back of the bus,
Shit sprawled all over the place.
I’ve never understood pumpkin spice lattes,
Maybe it’s the only spice they get in their lives
Future soccer moms and housewives.

(This was undeniably a morning rant)

Montreal

Ice in the night
Looks like latex
Brought to a shine
By an obedient little slave.

Submission

Subservient Subs
Surrendering Subconsciously
to Subliminal Subspace
like the Subspecies Subordinates
they long to be.

Succubus 1

Cry me your soul,
Let my hands slowly deprive you.
Oxygen fleeing, haggard existence
What does it feel like
To know that when you kiss me,
You are kissing death?

Montebello

A colourless day draws on
In cold observation of privilege
By the light of a dozen flames
Patagonia and Gucci abound
Wood, stone, and stained glass
The Succubus laughs silently
As loveless marriages melt away
On this crisp winter’s day

Melt

Time of spring
Icicles turned water
Frozen again
Time to slip

Bard Bits – Innocence

He marvelled at her innocence
Shining through in the darkness
An ethereal light amongst the shadows
Blissfully cradled in his arms
She was his angelic little slut.

Bee Mine

Darkness before dawn
A wasp flies up a mountain
Spread thighs await

Ode to a Fern

Leaning towards dying foliage
Desperate whispers part my lips
“I’ll cherish you forever.”
Fronds amiss, you sink into oblivion

Succubus 2

Create a void in me, so I lose sight
Embrace the upheaval of my thighs
Mountainous strength from beneath
As I erode myself into your world
Eager monster forsaking the gods
Devouring, until only the shell remains

© 2018 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

On Writing – A word from Lilith

After a bit of an absence, I am back to try out a new format.

Prior to my month-long writing hiatus, I had been putting a lot of pressure on myself to post regularly and be active on social media to try and promote what I was writing. I was crippled, in a way, by what many people would refer to as FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). “If I don’t spend time building a following on Twitter, and interacting with the other members of the #writingcommunity, I’m never going to be part of it.”

Well, the truth is, that doesn’t work for me. I loathe social media, and I’m not a natural at it. I believe it reflects the worst of what we are in many cases: vain, sad little creatures, disconnected from our communities and the things that matter, and desperate for validation that is substanceless (like a bag of chips: delicious while you’re eating it, but has zero benefits for your body and leaves you hungry for more 10 minutes later). Personally, trying to maintain the regularity needed to push a following on social comes at the detriment of my mental wellbeing (which then can quickly cause me to spiral and stop taking care of myself on a physical level, like I normally would), which just doesn’t work.

So, I’ve decided to no longer care who reads what I publish, or whether I get likes or shares. It was never why I started publishing my works online in the first place, and I’ll be damned if my social media stress puts me in a position where I’d rather walk away from writing than simply periodically publish something because I’ve felt inspired and taken the time to write something out.

I’m also going to start writing to a new section of my site called “Musings On…”, which are going to be taking on a more traditional blog post (or article format). I am a complex individual, with lots of experiences and things to share with the world beyond just my poetry, and I hope that anyone who feels they can relate to what I choose to write about will find value in my thoughts.

Eternally yours,

Lilith.

Anisoptera – For J

Ephemeral emerald iridescence
Envelops the fragility of your oblong form
Barely seen, a flutter of translucent wings
Surrenders your position, caught in a ray of light
Enticed by the Succubus, like a moth to a flame

Your many eyes see beyond her carnal shell
Contemplating the woes of the disconnected
Shimmering belonging, you glisten in the sun
Of the one you love, now, then, and tomorrow
Until the cycle starts anew; a natural order
Reborn from the cold, dark, depths of the pond.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Haven

Everywhere I look, you’re there, somewhere
A subtly stifled smirk, unbeknownst to others,
A mirrored image in the gleaming window,
The steady tap, tap, tap of the beat of a drum,
The crisp sound of shoes on freshly fallen snow.

When did you become my haven,
The place in which I’ll forever feel safe and warm.
An ocean of love, narrowly navigated by the few
Who can embrace unlikely truths and unusual encounters?

Kiss me on a stormy morning,
Wipe away my tears as the rain draws lines on the panes.
Pull me in close, against your beating heart,
Compel the pain away with your radiant heat.
Hold my cheek and urge me to sleep.

Version française

Havre

Partout où erre l’oeil, tu es là, quelque part
Un sourire narquois subtil, inconnu des autres,
Une image miroir dans une fenêtre luisante,
Le battement continu du tambour,
La clarté des pas sur une neige fraîche.

Quand es-tu devenu mon havre,
Le refuge où toujours je serai en sécurité
Un Océan d’amour, navigué tendrement par ceux
Qui enlacent les vérités des rencontres inhabituelles?

Embrasse-moi par une matinée tempétueuse,
Essuie mes larmes au rythme de la pluie sur les carreaux.
Tiens-moi fort, contre ton coeur battant
Éteins la douleur avec ta chaleur radieuse
Caresse ma joue et invite le sommeil.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

Phoenix – Goodbye, L.

I wish I could hold in my hands,
your incandescent insecurities
and use them to fuel your fire.

Oh, what a sight…
Brightly consuming everything
until you emerge from the ashes,
— Radiant —

Yet I feel you slipping
melting through my fingers
down a path, I cannot follow…

A husk of who you appeared to be
anger sketched in steel
between the lines
of your beautiful face,
caught in a frenzy of fear
longing always to run
until there’s nowhere left to go.

I cry out!
The wind whistles in your hair
as part of me flies to catch up.
A little bird of love,
heart of gold and periwinkle,
who’ll follow you forever
no matter where you end up.

NB: Originally written in November 2018. 

© 2018 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved

The Artist

Delicate dove in your hands,
You encourage my flight.
Warm lanterns in the shadows,
A gentle keeper of my love.

Through restraints of passion,
True colours shine
Painting, etching, sculpting…
My body your eternal canvas
Your ropes a medium of your love,
An expression of your desire.

In your hands,
I hurt, I melt, I love, I sigh, I hang, I cry.
Your tight grip,
Like a warm embrace on my soul
Harks the moment of transcendence,
Freeing me from my corporeal bindings.
I can see you clearly; in spirit.
Brilliant light; enveloping.
Every rotation, fold, tie, twist,
Speaks more than a thousand words.
Interpreters of inspiration,
We speak a common language:
‘The beauty of tight binding.’

The Muse of your musings,
I humbly accept the offerings at my feet.
With spread legs, and eager hands,
My body is yours to please and cherish.
Tickle me with your tongue,
Reach into the depths of my being,
To gently release me into your world.

© 2019 Lilith Ember All Rights Reserved