THE MIDNIGHT BALL - A LONG POEM
THE MIDNIGHT BALL
A long poem by: Zeerdank
1
Blinding, deafening, cacophony of all, whether glass, or class, or metered step
Silks so sharp like a blade of gold, of a diamond dream, of joyous times, and idyllic smiles
Wrapped around them, on their hands and covering floors while draping walls, to all in all form an exquisite…
…
An exquisite, grandiose, platinum platter holding they of a benefit. Those requisite matters
That matter is regal, proud, they are quiet, loud, of noble or the ig, of small fief or the big…
…
A step is so hard,
incredibly taxes the mind,
watching the feet,
balanced,
watching mine
Two balancing scales, on my left and my right, one with the vintage, the other a rare… The water would flow, the mouth froth would go, but I certainly did not dare…
…
Wandering starved, staring at stars who’d never look back, not a twinkle or burst, not a bite or pour, no quench for a thirst, of what you see or the sea, no saturation of a hunger, of one’s fair or a fare
Yet in a smiling indifference, in a face of futility, the infertility of this dream and all that seems…
Still I stare
Stare beyond…
…
A cruel kind of dreaming, over and over, heart swell believing, as the night is moreover
To sip, I would wish, of diamond dust, an added helping of glimmery grits
Like the buoyant bits of a fantasy, magnificent and gilded, crowned like a story, lived by the gifted, but in reading reveries anyone knows, like a fantasy ought, tis a far off fiction…
…
Oh no diction have I in such kind of dream,
of visions so dressed, so rightly inseam.
This high fantasy I hold…
…To some kind of esteem.
2
Distanced thoughts go too far and still farther, they are enough to farfetch only mazes to think
Figures and raiments, like sticks draped in spirit. Ethereal women, no wrinkles nor blemish
No spirits like fire or honey and sting, only closeted elders and fragrances strong, to string about a wonderful mindsong… But strung high is the night, that the singing is wrong…? Or strange better said…
Huh…Yes,
Not quite so wrong… But removed from my own. Not like in my head.
Rally forth there again with a vintage grasped, a fiery crimson speaks to a mask, in passing I eave…
… Nothing…?
…
… This, oh this, I cannot believe.
Confusion ungraceful, as stupid and lame standing about like a dumbfounded dame.
Picking pace up, a table awaits, a half-hearted snicker from a pretty boy’s face, abound him a harem of prettier birds, ready and braced, with tiger eyes… And tighter waists… Even the fair ones… Twice my age…?
… Heed I need not.
For such ire and fire allowed me to… Raise a glass, pour it fast, fasten my bow, and bid myself go-
-Lest the scorn reach my base.
Skip and step, to there and again, with a platter or a tankard, or a towel to get.
Thoughts escape, mind is reeling, foreign fills, rich thrills, life is fleeting, with a murmur or two, the unknowable truths, a kind of dream to gleam and theme t’ward the higher
But mired to think of things un-succinct, to my mind, and of mine, and all I hold dear.
…
It is clear,
A foundation lacking leads the break, crack, and fall. A foundation never built, means a house not enstated. Such foundation I lack, like a rest for my back…
3
Body’s betrayal like a backstab, straightened, unmoved, a breath of fresh air like light in dark rooms
Assume, the living, made to the service, in other words, a butler or maid, working determined
Mind your own business, a busyness unending, till dusk and dawn, till a new moon arising, till stars move on and bleed to horizons.
Stressful dread, a helping of sweat, all good additions to stand on a last leg—
— But—
Eyes meet eyes in a momentary glance. A split second is long in a magical trance~
Red gems gleam directed to mine, mine blue as a sky, mine I see all the time~
Opposite that, crimson like nothing before. Raging fire, torrential blood, passionate suns, crazy love~
Of gold and fair, contrasting the worn black and white… The brown, dull hair~
Yet… Diverted just as quick—
— But catching in the moment, a moment of doubt. Did he look at me? Or the sweat on my brow?
On margin of dream for a split kind of thought, a fetching escape with a radiant lot…
… Seeing a light, makes dark rooms that darker. Without him, specifically like him, I feel as a martyr
…
Anguish in a vision,
of hearty weight,
of loss of spine,
of skipping beats,
of wait of thought,
of wailing heart,
I could cry.
Fantasy leaves us dreaming alone, no fantasy works in reality’s cold, no dream alive in the world that we know, knowing and feeling cruelty’s beaming, at us, at hope, divesting warm coats, to leave us exposed.
Nevermore was my pledge, to dream higher than my rents, but my soul shall be rend, if never our eyes meet again—
— Oh—
Driven under and over, the same kind of ending. There will be no together, if that together’s you and him
A lover is slain when only one lover’s feelings hit. A lane for two but one will never fit
What love keeps under lock and key? What love keeps you from loving me?! Unrequited, imperfect,
I am perfectly hopeless.
4
Reverie then died, thoughts finally smothered, gone in a second, a brutal, grave end
That light so blinding and getting yet brighter, but no shield am I after, or hurting for. Radiance consume me, nurture in warmth, shatter my conceptions and convictions of what, what chains on my heart that disallow, what claims in my mind that disavow.
And softly, speak
Become to me, the day I seek, which burns all evil, and wakes
That takes me off my path, my fate.
And make me weep
That tears may flow with a smile
That while I ail, you are at my side–
I stood in the presence of fortune himself
A golden perfection presenting in silks
Expression unparalleled, I liken to lux
Regal in countenance…
Poetic in phrase…
Divine song was writ in a man…
My fantasy lives just as he stands…
He spoke good nature, eyes smiling with it
He asked in my favor, how shall I call you?
Response in a murmur, one barely heard–
–Mademoiselle… Call me as so
Mademoiselle, it shall be then
And before I forget, L. Saint. Hello~
L. Saint, so it is.
We spoke of this and that
I spoke of little much back
Yet if the topic was to be asked
I’d hardly remember
His eyes drew me in
His voice took me further…
Call me a madwoman…
I could not disagree…
Yet if I shall lose my mind…
I shall do so happy…
5
Further a mind in fae, faraway. There at the fair, on a tear, to make merry
Follow the steps, do not tarry:
1~
Watch a flow trail of silk, hear a stomp sound of sole, link your souls like the lights, that intoxicating white.
2~
Watch that seep into life, hear a blaring brass kick, link your eyes, blow a kiss, feeling cheeks dusted pink.
3~
Watch the distance, hear bated breath, win him over, hold or be held, whichever gets you closer in the end.
4~
Watch at your heart, hear it’s sweet swell, wear it right on your sleeve, hold the hardship that bears.
And~
Twirl.
Waltz into dream, where happiest days
Shall rightly know their place, thus rightly know to stay… With all respect to reason.
We welcome back a straggling thinker, far strung out, in thinking bigger
In all kinds of avenues, fallen and fleeting, a feeling of time better spent
Thus spoke the angel, yet fear still snared you, and parted the two in due time
The mistress of house, the lady of owner, the one you’d remiss to ignore.
As if beauty itself did not seek validation, so too is her aura of dignification. And elation in eyes none of my own, took pleasure of sight upon her. With a sway and a sly, harlequin grin, spoke forth to my angel before me. Ensnared him with rose, and thus L. Saint was go.
Harlot, lordess of my life, seeketh to hurt me, bringeth me strife. I curse you hundreds, thousands, innumerable times. And again, does the beauty overrule the thorn, and scorned are the flowers with no danger adorned
Insufferable priss, unfit for my prince, my angel, my venerated saint of aurous gold…
Now in standing a fool… I’ll see you again, I whispered and hoped.
6
Seeking,
seething,
spiteful,
sorrow-
- As I lie tween the morrow, or loss to the night.
The fight left inside burns vicious as candles, but with it the wax melts twofold.
Shambling deadly, and eyes trained deadset.
Stinging and painful, like a knife in my head.
Heartstrung up and down the-
- bending ,
burden,
of life.
At the mercy of opportunity and lordly desire.
I aspire, so virulent my dreams end up being,
my mind sent reeling to fall inwards,
towards toxic despair, green and foggy,
clouding all logic supposedly there.
Pacing insanely.
Back.
And.
Forth.
The legs till they end up as stubs shall not be restored, to a still or a stand.
Mercy be damned, no life will stop me, neither will tiresome ails to the body.
Confusion contort beholding dark fantasies,
better they know, lest they try understanding me.
Sickening, lecherous, harlot-esque witches affronting a prince-
- unnerved to them,
undeserved to them.
Driver to envy, so violently deep.
7
Call hail and I turn to attention. With a bitter taste, apprehension.
Speak ho and I fly t’ward the floor lord, servant master.
So I muster all my haste, so he barks, rally faster!
Mad made you?! With a backhand, and a crackling kind of pain.
Sting hard yet stalwart, duly I remain.
Madwoman! so he calls-
Made stupid by a ball?
How simpleminded be! Oh Goddess, do help me!
Abuse to my ears shall last not but a second
And the Goddess does hear me as tacit is my cry
—Strike and the chime comes to life
—Ding! Goes the hand as it strikes near a twelve—
—Ring! Is the bell as midnight nears felled—
Lower the lights! The foreman commands Signal the dance! A forlorn thought lands.
Oh my! Was a cry, un-tacit, as I vie
Vie away to my cause, to find just where it is gone
What a scramble of all colors, as existence seems to struggle.
Tearing up a world from the in
And screaming within, all manners ideation, which in motions,
build up to unravel all notions of everything
That is, what is dear, what is left to keep going,
what you look to, to struggle, when the future is unclear
And curse to the dreamer, whose thoughts serve to hinder,
all wishes to burn, reigning sin as they cinder.
I speak rally, rally please!
I am stronger than I believe!
I speak farther, go far longer!
But sundered by the long hand…
…So it strikes, and they dance…
8
Rally even more! Cries the mind at wits end! Failure is not yours! Cries the heart as it rends!
And I,
as I live,
breathe,
and I see.
I am more than I am, more than what could be.
So alive is the night, so the waltz begins count-
-1, 2, 3, 4… Right, left, then go back, go forth and repeat…
1, 2, 3, 4… Twist and repeat… 1, 2, 3, 4…
Still I am not beat.
A maze made of meter and measure in step. A romance of music, in beat to the rest
The keys sing, black and white, overture to the night, in it’s extravagance, in it’s might
Goodfellows, their mistresses, incensed in event, swoon to the music, to their lovers own scent
Stillwell is the heart as the night bellows on
As harmonies meld, so does pleasure and fawn
Stayed hope to the day, may it stay away. Pray the night overlong, oh good moon overstay
My angel of gold, where is your great luster, oh saint, venerated, give me strength for a muster
Muster of heart as I start, hitherto, to the end, to the last of all I am, what I can, what I want…
…
All of you, all my heart.
You are mine, damn the nays
I am yours, in all the ways
Made to be, damn the maid
I am me, no masquerade
Damn tradition, damn repute
I love you, that is the truth…!
9
Merriment’s fury. A step in a second, a jump in one less, and a dip even quicker
Slower in pace, I shamble and shake, I scan for the light in pitches of dark getting darker
Bumping around in the waltz my mind waits
Frantic like picking, of gold and of silver, to make a good fortune, but to find only copper
I run all my course, burnt out like a match, I hold out on tears, holding cracks in a dam
I make it past joyous delights to a silence
A saint only can, a man of the ether, L. Saint only can, as a defacer of darkness itself
Render him now, I feel a dark touch, release him I plead, the cold void is too much.
Oh harlot miss charmer you shan’t be beside him
Damn your luster, lustful butcher
Heartstring puller, mistress lecher
If you kiss him, I will kill you
If you touch him, I will torch you
If you hold him, I will hang you
Playing coy?
Fuck you
Stay away or be destroyed.
Hard to get?
I’ll gut you dead
Leave your body in a bag.
I am not above killing
I know what you do with your time
I have watched you
Cleaned your room
Dusted windows
Got you food
Watched you cry.
But I swear to the heavens upon all that I am
If you ever deign to treat him ill…
…
Cross my heart, your blood will spill.
10
I die with the lights… A pitiful showing
Where is that fading, fleeting, angel?
I have lost him? It cannot be…
…But I see no proof to deny it.
Full stop, chilling tiles, dirtied from the countless gaits it has miled. Mired in much, just like I
…
On to the knees, hoping to bruise, to blacken the joints, as black as my hope, and then forever lose
Painted red as a fool
Train the spotlight in full
Kill me. Strike me. Reap all of me, please
I do not breathe as they do
Good prince, kiss me, wake me… Not, forget me in resplendence and taketh your princess
Ha!
Happily ever after, such peasants only dirty you, sully your good name, all, everything for shame
I draw only failure
They respire success
Forlorn bearer, server eternal, burden yourself with the dirt and dregs, the filth of the rest
Haha!
As it drudges along, a husk of deadmeat. Laugh and point, subhuman twit, no pity for the mindless
No respite in death
But regret in death
And regress in death
To what we have always been
But pretend desperately to spite
In a second, tense a smile, stand up straight, serve the lord, fill his plate, curtsy, and repeat
Hahaha!
Starve yourself, bitch of the tray, curse your mind for the crime of a thought, that you deserve any better
Fate cruel lady, mistress fatalis, lord over mercy
No world caters to thee. As if what is less can be more, that gold can be thrown to the floor
…Save me
We hate you as you are, thinking at all, we’ll rid you of that yet, you rotten, groveling, lecher and whore
Dreaming of romances
Or fantasies yet?
You worthless wretch.
11
Stand thin, little one, stand lone with the barren expanse that the weight of ‘what could’, left upon you.
No envy shall resolve you
No hate shall absolve you
No story will elate you
That fantasy lie dead
Lie still in your head
To recall in your bed
As you weep
As you sweep
As you serve her… With him complete
Her with him… Complete
Complete.
Mademoiselle. Left on his lips, a name would sound much sweeter
Mademoiselle. I hear it call, leaving rifts where blood is sequenced
Mademoiselle…? I hear again, cutting deeper.
-Mademoiselle?
L. Saint?
Do you wish to dance?
You wish to dance… With me?
Oh~ You see
While the party roar high
I confess, sat was I
With a sigh as I beheld the waltz.
…
But then catching my eye
As I drank from my wine
A maid with a sorrowful smile.
…
Now pardon me so, for assume I will now
Is a dance what you are sorely without?
12
With a mask, damn the masquerade. With a dance, damn the repute, the shame, the naysay
In a corner, alone, to hold close and be warm. No fantasy fleeting, when held in his arms
So real, so vivid, his crimson hued eyes. So shocking, so light, was the kiss that sealed the night
As we settled and wound down my mind broke into a million tiny pieces
And these pieces came back as the torrential tearfall felt colder than ice
I stirred in pain to remember as I start staining his coat, ruining his tie
In relief I cried, but inconsolable was my mental sin, my shameful mind
He did not let go, I never understood why
And even now, in the darkest nights
He continues to deny my villainous mind
But perhaps with some time
Shall we see with level eyes
Yet for now
I love you, my saint. Goodnight.
- Célestine
ZEERDANK 2024
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