Year: 2016

The Red Tower of Memory

Virginia Carraway Stark

Here I sit where I sat before

A princess then,

A queen now

In a tower of red,

like the blood I’ve seen shed

The blood that’s used to cover lies and crimes

Red like the fire that burned the evidence.

Here I sit where I sat before

A Queen where once

A Princess was

The Tower is made

Of the blood of the sacrifices

The tower is my heart pulled out by my own hands

To try to stop the pain of the losses of my life

Here I stand, where once I sat before

The Goddess where

Once I was a Queen

Where once a little girl

made wishes on dandelion clocks

and watched feathers blow in the wind

Here I fly, where once I stood

The Judgement of all

that went before

I claim this tower as mine by all that I have earned

By all that I have seen and risen over

This place is mine

This tower is built

From my blood and my love

Black, White, Yellow and Red

The others aren’t mine

Although I lived in Black

And felt the shadow of White

When Yellow is claimed

And we all take hands

our unique crown of towers

Will be ready to wear

with one thing in common

The fields of blood at their base

The land of death at their center

Saturn’s place of no mercy

Where the wolf is ever at the door

Every minute of every day

And at winter the wolves tear

Your heart with their freeze

Black shadows loom

Babies die Saturn alone

Is the king of that place

No more is my home

In the land of The King of Death

Instead I claim the tower of my own pain

I made it out of a moment in time when

A feather floated in the breeze and I woke up

I said, “I don’t want to lose this moment’

And realized that I have memory

You’re welcome to come see my tower

I can’t promise anything for your safety

Many have died and many more have gone mad

at the red tower of my pulsating bleeding heart

You’ll leave one day, only the other towers are forever

and when you leave, stricken, bereft, mad with what you have seen

You’ll blame me because

I am the Queen of Hearts and I’ve stolen yours

With a look, a smile or a cutting remark

I used to feel sorry for the ranks of broken humans that fled

But now I fell nothing except a full ripeness

You are my guest here, I can do as I please

Welcome to my Tower

The Tower of Blood Red Memory .

The End of The World

By Virginia Carraway Stark

I woke up at the end of the world

where the ocean meets the land

and we long ago forfeit

our dominion

Lying on soft green grass

with giant bell shaped flowers

On the greenest bowers I had ever seen

Dangling overhead

So tangible I could hear

The faint ringing of the flower bells

In a realm not far away

Blood stained my thighs

My baby had been torn from me

An old crone held what had been mine

And before I could rise

Or utter more than a scream

She dashed my child into the sea.

So distraught

I ran to the edge of the cliffs

where I could the rocks below

my child dead and smashed

a child I would never know

while the mad hag cackled at my loss

and vanished like a wind

I went to throw myself over the edge

and follow the child

I had never known to a fate the same

An arm grabbed my shoulder

And stopped me

Even as I felt the slippery grass

End

And little pebbles sprinkle down

On the little body below

Whales swam and the bells

From another realm

Cried out in tinkling voices

The death of one of mine

And I wept

My hands and thighs covered in blood

An obelisk stood to mark the spot

Labeled “The End of The World”

And my love kept me from plunging down

All the world was in mourning

Except for the warmth of the sun

on my bare shoulders

And the waves of the ocean

And my own heart beating

And the arms of my love

The red sand of the island

Mingled with the red blood of my hands

And I cried for another loss

One that I had never even known I had had.

The Autumn Monarch

by Tony Stark

He is the autumn wind

Often warm

sometimes cold

Bringing the sadness of awareness

Of change

Loss and death

A lone figure

Standing at the border

of metal and basalt

At the tip of Battery Park

At the foot of the Lion’s Gate

Where the river meets the sea

Collar turned up around his ears

The stir of leaves rising to a flood

Air that has already passed away

From summer’s haze

And coins golden and iron and brittle

Spent by coffers deep

The ledger of summer is spent

He finishes the columns

Then locks them away

In the Black Tower

And stares out at the places

Where the river meets the sea.