VIXEN

The Harlequin (Series)

*We assume that the Harlequin, a moving figure in a department store, starts to move and have a life after midnight strikes!

Harlequin

The Harlequin weeps,

He weeps with her

As the sun sets to a mellow tune.

“Ashes burn,

Fires sprout up from the ground!”

The Harlequin weeps…

Who would have ever known

What the world could ever amount to

If only you’d know about

The Harlequin blues.

“ Rains sweep

The tremors to the dimly-lit world too.

Thunder!

Cracks open and…”

The Harlequin mopes,

He mopes

And brings life back to the footage of the doll

Whose feelings get enmeshed in greater rays of light

Painted out into beautiful reflections

Of Christmas in a patchwork

Of orange and grey,

Spreading the delightful little dance

Of snowflakes in the ground…

“Hear the winds…

Soften the harshness of the sounds!”

The Harlequin stays,

While the doll weeps to him

When he walks past the cases

Covered up in a round cable of courtesy,

Walking out to where the doll

Had left a note

Out to the Harlequin’s cry…

“Winter treads…”

Softly,

Silently…

The Harlequin and the doll

Fade

To times

Of Orange and grey.

2014 ©

Stone Cinema

Stone cinema

Reaped in excitement, fantasy, glory, faith

And most of all amazement

To the reality turned around in a tune

So fine.

I drove my life

To stone cinema,

Where I held the most spectacular grace

To fill a page in a never-ending story line.

Amazed –

Tilled…

Sent to the finest heights of glory,

Thrilled!

Flames burned high

To the stone cinema of all the touchdowns

Lighted with

The tears of the Harlequin,

Soft,

Silent…

Seductive…

Yet praised on the Doll’s

Disposition

To light her misery to a sudden song

Of hope,

Joy,

Forevermore on…

The glory of the love

Bespoken.

“Lights sail and fires light up the stage lights in dusky colours!”

Utterances faded

As the doll stole the image on the mirror

And drove graces to her genuine character

Defined in a drifted

Moment of faith.

***

Life shot the spicks of the Harlequin’s

Love, Poise, and Nightly Composure –

To a sudden fragment of

A thrilled life

In tragically beautiful movements

Stringed out

By the strummed orchestra…

Possessed

By the fragmentation

Of all the yelps and cries

Of the churned voices!

“Harlequin,

You are the nobility to truth,

You set the spirits free on sight

And bury the love alive!”

“Sounds fade to whispers

As winds tempered down the night!”

The Harlequin

Stood beneath the flames

And in ecstasy

Breathed words close to the doll’s relection:

“Night turns to dusk,

What shall be draped to us

Is the notion of love and truth!”

2014 ©

Dance of the Silhouettes

The madness of the turn-arounds

With nights and plights of faith

Sounded out the tears

To the Doll and the Harlequin’s

Glory of a time so dear.

“With fires of madness

The Doll raged and danced

To the six-pence song as the Harlequin

Wrought faith to his belief.”

The Harlequin steps into the light

And sees the silhouette of the Doll

That weeps in transparence.

“Why, oh why…

Have you left my soul alight

To the misery of the flames

That run the rage against all of my fancies!”

The Doll’s silhouette was all that left

The Harlequin to weep and cry

Another night

In time’s disguise

To the softest hushes of the

Twirling sounds

While her body pranced

To delicate beauty -

Synchronic moves

To rhythmic times.

“Silhouettes multiplied

To the dance swayed forth to

The rhythm and pulse of the piano song!”

The weeping sounds

Place the Harlequin

To a sudden moment of stillness

And strife

As he wipes his tears tonight,

To the softest murmurs

Of the silhouette’s cry

That disappears

And bathes into the light.

“Whispers rang out in love,

As dissonances wavered

Into the air,

As cryptic silence crawled…”

The Harlequin then walks

To the light of the moon,

And there he stands

To bathe himself

In real definitions

To love, notion, and truth.

2014 ©

Yokeboy23 à AMAZING! J.

Stone Cinema Embrace

Tears

Stream down –

To clichéd cinema,

As the Harlequin

Brought more finesse

To a cinema stone touchdown

In the light of a time

So true.

“Raindrops fell...

As the turn of the centre-piece

Of grey smog reaped the air with light!”

The Harlequin

Drapes his cloak

To wipe tears streaming down

In the edges

Of his glory’s

Pitted life

On love, notion

And truth,

Lighting the fires

Of his virtue.

“Background lights simmered

Into little fragmented dissonances

Of a scene kept real jizzed.”

The Doll’s little twirls

Appearing in the light

Brings faith to the Harlequin’s

Tears

As her swirling dances

Bring more finesse into

The lighted scenes.

He walks to where

She pauses the dance,

Brings out a hand to touch

Her delicate face,

Then pulls out a flower

To stun her life around.

*They engage in a kiss,

Where romance

Dances the light away.

“Utterances turned into

Love-hurt whispers

As the lights and the twinkles

Faded to grey…”

The Harlequin drapes over

His cloak,

As both fall to an embrace

Under the dawn and grey.

2014 ©

Conclusion

The Harlequinn and the Doll symbolize love at first sight and the hard times of love and struggle, as they both deal with the consequences of the life they hold on together, through time’s life and love done bold. The Harlequin is a figure of bravery, truth, spirit, and wisdom, while the doll is a figure of serenity and peace. Both the Harlequin and the Doll are emblems of life, or struggle within love and fight.

Finale

Legacy of the Brave

Legacy of the brave,

Art the graces to a beloved wound;

Reaped to;

Bones –

Where stones and fortunes;

Embedded in the cryptograph –

Shall hail out;

A might fence –

To the world.

***

A mighty fence to hail the art;

Of the emperor’s fall –

Great withal;

Through tide and space;

And with the grace –

The facades and the times;

Shall dine –

When truth;

Goes brave with the light;

Sorrow on his lover’s face;

Melted through the snow –

And the cryptograph doth fade;

To a deity of a plight;

In the nicks of June,

Where spring blossoms –

No longer danced;

Where lives –

Ended;

Where his courage –

Shone;

And the mangroves that laid the beds;

Spoke –

To a virtue so strange;

Yet dearly forgotten.

***

The emperor did see;

How the beauty of the times –

Sped past the world of grace;

Wept fine –

As the sorrow of the wife –

Reaped a finesse so true;

Arted to the blues;

Of love and faith –

Cut to the pace;

Of the wartime –

And the lords and the streamstresses;

Did weep a merry-go round –

To a day plighted;

In times;

Of an afterlight –

Shone out;

In the grove.

2015 ©

History Left Vanquished

Nagasaki was an ancient history,

Where the bomb dropped,

The World shattered to bits;

And the glory of the rightful place –

Became known as the synchronyms of time,

Where life –

Held love to its time and space,

There,

Buildings got left bestowed;

As the world shatters with time –

And the glory-doves left the remains;

Of a history brushed forth;

To the world in a dime;

A moment left unheard –

To Nagasaki crimes,

Dimed;

A spill to match.

2015 ©

[VIXEN]