Zoe Krylova Eight Poems

Recollection   Location   Manifestation



Catastrophe Mastery

Bound bodies blitz/sing

Melt me murky pasture
Past yr cattle rancher

As if to dip hem-line
In blood brine
Were a crime

Sopping tresses and suit tails
Ravaged frills and silk fabric
Plummet up to nightingales
Shut eyes to see

To sea she says Sailing
Barge Yacht useful Canoe
To see she says Born again
Lunacy Composure
Enclosed where
Bracken's been broken



twilight a gilded tune
to catch moth in clear jug
bells clang
shawl slips from bronze
shredding kept my static hash
whiskey ended
i don't know

fervent grip
floating goat cart
graveyard words for suddenly
land like a great gravy
i mean
anything to say i didn't

outside slicking
dusky glow in muggy dream
it was raining
the flame flickered
there was alchemy

old fifth floor flat
tower of scrutiny
his arm hooked 'till
fan ceased
sweat and insects followed

i was picking citrus skin from stinking heap
soldiers took back my empty sack
squads of ghosts used fabric for rags

there were winding roads
rocks of steep
i crossed river underneath

archbishop cast spear

i sought fishbone shanty
crawled quarry in foggy catskill

snow conducted scrawl

i was silent
i was staring
i was somber
i was strange

even after shock

i was sentenced


The Passing of Zoe

Death delivered to womb
Little swells of sorrow
Waves of pain penetrate
Depression sinks through skin
Heavy fabric of mourning
Deepens the darkness
Sobs heave fetus
Born to grieve


Mermaid Chooses Instead to Dive In

It had nothing to do with Neptune
Though he lurked there
Mermaid couldn't lift her fins from shore
Hadn't the walk about ways of townsfolk
She huddled tearstruck
Moonstone and quartz slid from skin
Passers saw somber light glow from sobbing body
Sea exploded into web



To push off the morning glories

Meridians of thriving succulents

Matter in which fulfillment has passed

Not that it's the past

Nor is it a lemonade

Or fine point pen

Not a skillet at hand

Or purse

My lips that have

{it's hard to believe}

memory of lips

Hips have it and palms:

Revolution in print

Your habitat is my imagining

A bit of then and this

There's a ring around the lamp

Callings are vibrant in ear hollow

It's a morning of seepage and gold

Foot pads of fleshy of histories approach

I am an unwilling stiff

Without the discovery of death


Locked Up Cortex

Across groomed ground
By stone climb the star borage
Thunder clouds part for light
On balcony or behind blinds
Mindfulness and a gaze
Blaze upon fabric
Flower representing hope floats on soup
Laced up corsette
Like locked up cortex
She continued to count on fool
Soon the seam loosens
Thread turn to worm unwinds
Insect against moon


Her Secrets Cast

Her leather darkness
Black mane
Night sky in her eyes
Her leather voice
Shadow silk drifting
Low rumble in crypt
Her leather sleeve
Chamber from which
Dark tale
Tough life


Engulfed by Glow

Sleeping child
Hangs like boneless silk
In father's limbs
Gaze upon dream
Gentle honey tumble
Affection breeds contagion

Poetry is the means through which I honor my journey through life. From a crevice it emerges, full of cobwebs and dew. Sources of lessons and inspiration include HD, Diane di Prima, Patti Smith and Mother Nature. Correspond to: angelica@cyborganic.net.

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