has 18 pieces in our gallery to date! They are all most definitely worth your time.
ScornHer restless heart cries, Love! I am here to be found,
Everywhere - here - following voices of all in Greece,
Yet from her mouth, there is no sound.
A fair nymph's merry voice once rung from sky to ground,
Until the cerulean-eyed Queen gave it cruel release –
Her restless heart cries, Love! I am here to be found.
And vainly she, swift of wind, silent of voice, follows round
Her beloved, who scorns her with lips of cerise –
Yet from her mouth there is no sound.
The wind carries her silent lament, for he himself is bound
To one who wears his scornful azure eyes and vain fleece;
Her restless heart cries, Love! I am here to be found.
Surely she knows Eros has struck her beloved's heart deftly around
with passion for a brook whose laugh slays a heart's peace.
Yet from her mouth there is no sound -
The fair flower, who holds Echo's heart, pines as a lover drowned
in longing, for the murmur of his river lover will not cease.
Her restless heart cries, Love! I am here to be
in the words of LadyofGaerdon: A brilliant combination of the
Echo & Narcissus myth and the villanelle
form, that could only come from the mind
of the illustrious
Vigilo.
On Ariadnethe loom of lust:
In the heart of your ears,
and till your outstretched feet
the spinner of mad red has corrupted,
her fingers like dragonflies threading
bark and twined grass into your hair
around your sure wrists, your angled feet
'this is love, my shining bride-to be,' you whisper,
and disappear with her among billowing black sails.
the abandonment of Ariadne:
He wooed you in a labyrinth of spinners,
and wed you in black sails, beneath jealous skies.
'Sleep and tomorrow you shall be Queen of Athens,'
Ariadne, sleep, tomorrow the sun will shine,
and the sea will ebb sympathetic away from
these deserted sands.
the death, or descent:
Spin, my hanging nymph,
sleep and let the dryad-tree's shadow
ease your descent.
Bacchus' bard:
The spinning nymph for our mad lord,
the gentleness for the grapes of wrath
and the delight for the madness,
come. Drink, be it ambrosia or wine,
be it mother and son, or nymph and lord.
Spin, lady, and drink, lord,
and I will breat
In the words of AzizrianDaoXrak: Many of the pieces in Vigilo's gallery are exquisite,
but this one particularly stands out to me. She is
able to seamlessly weave together ancient myth
and a rich earthiness through her amazing descriptions.
Even if you don't know the myth, she tells the story
in such a way that it becomes yours.
Rapunzel: A RecountingAsk nothing from the azure sky, and the
blinding sun that burn bronze locks to gold, and
corrupted me with candlestick and sunlight.
Do you recall the child you delivered and deserted?
Exile, I entered, and you left me to my evermore.
Father, did you falter, when you followed her - my
good mother, the witch? (Gather ye rapunzels and go.)
Halt there, hurrying prince,
in my ignorance, you steal my bliss.
Joker, surely you jest?
Kings and kin - kill me now if I am ever
late - late! in love, in lie, and in line!
Men are mountains: mote to crumble away.
Never will the tales near normalcy:
Omniscient is the overlord, and the
princes tried patience and pleasure; never
quiet in quests. Quoth the Queens, the ladies,
Return Rapunzel: relieved of her religion.
So sever'd the Soul from its seams and
turned the tide towards the tower,
understanding the
vanity of
waiting.
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in the words of LadyofGaerdon: It takes skill to make alliteration look good, but
Vigilo does so much more than that.
She has made it an art form itself.
Ode to a TrainI am a stop sign. Old and aged, I stand upon earth.
You are a geometric line - tearing away from earth.
I do not know the charm of gentle rust, only peeling paint,
but I have known you and held you dear as my earth.
Desert wind found me, found me weatherworn.
But when water will fall, I will behold earth.
You are patient, for all that you race to and away,
dreaming of quicksilver flight, yet bound to earth.
I am all yellow jealousy for what the ground hears,
the beats you tattoo away, a drummer of the earth.
How must I tempt you away? I have no language, and in vain,
I insist on loving. The sky cherishes bitter, bitter earth.
I am the archaic tourist of a road, and you are a train,
wayward, an assured woman of this sprawling earth.
We were not meant for passion. I can hear you, blithely, you,
hurtling away, until all I hear is the echo of your breath upon earth.
In the words of angelStained: Vigilo has poetry that weaves webs in my mind-
and stunning ones. There are subtleties winding through
it from the rhymes to the repetition and the voice is
quietly magnetic.
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In the words of LadyofGaerdon: The nursery rhymes many of us grew up with
are often quite disturbing when we hear them
again as adults. In this vein,
Vigilo presents
an eerily rhythmic - indeed, the rhythm pulses
throughout, like the steady heartbeat of the poem -
new nursery rhyme about a most disturbing topic.
Three SinsTreachery: the act of betraying.
Jealousy: the feeling of envy.
Disloyalty: to break faith.
Tell me, tell me, which is the greater sin?
For he spoke of treachery so sharp,
And she told of jealousy, grass-green,
And he sang of disloyalty of the worst type.
And he said:
You think I do not know? Treachery so violent,
A thousand rose thorns would have stung less.
I close my eyes, and two faces appear behind my eyelids,
O! Beautiful face, gallant heart: why have you conspired against me?
Tell me! What have I done to deserve such unfaithfulness?
If it is truly my fault, say the word and Excalibur will turn against me.
Tell me! What have I done to make you turn from me so?
One word and if you look me in the eye, I will live no more.
And she said:
You think I did not try? Oh! But the air betrayed me,
It was stolen away and I felt the loss more sharply.
You think I did not resist that beautiful face? Oh, how could I,
When you yourself, strong heart, could not deny him anything?
Te
In the words of Kassi-Kamira: I do like the Arthurian
references. The piece in general is a strong read provocative
use of lexis and form to reinforce the thematics and context. Brilliant.
Me Men o' th' Land and SeaMe man o' th' land
is a fair and true lad,
but I love better me man o' the sea.
Me man o' th' land
has hair o' gauld like th' sun,
but me man o' th' sea loved me lang.
Me man o' th' land
has een o' bauld blue,
but me man o' th' sea has een o' bonnie, bonnie green.
But oh, but oh, me man o' th' land,
if yer heart brak', lit it nae be for me,
lit it nae be for th' weary wurld.
But oh, but oh, me man o' th' land,
I love ye sae, but I love me man o' th' sea mair,
for auld lang syne, I will min' ye,
me man o' th' land, but oh,
but oh, there my true love bides,
an' I love better me man o' th' sea.
Dae tell, my bairn, dae tell ye Father,
say I say, Farewell tae thee weel,
but I loved better me man o' the sea.
In the words of norui: This poem is based on an old Scottish
tale and delightfully includes the dialect.
The ideas it portrays wonderfully and the
rhythm suits it well. The addition of the
old words works to make it more interesting.
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In the words of betwixtthepages: Using the technique of prose-poetry,
Vigilo takes
readers on an intriguing journey through the pages of
her favorite books.
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In the words of AzizrianDaoXrak: For anyone who has ever read T.S. Eliot's
"Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," this piece
is a must-see. =Vigilo has both created a
perfect reflection of the original piece and
written an elegant and meaningful poem in its own right.
Echo or NarcissusGaze unto your face in the river forever more,
The waters will not part to show your heart's love.
O, vain Narcissus! The white flower blooms,
Stained with thy blood and beauty, gazing deeply,
Into the waters whom will not part for you.
Whisper through the woods, for only sound remains,
The winds will not part to show your face again.
O, lonely Echo! For thy voice speaks,
Lost is the face and lost forever is the woman,
Into the winds whom will not part for you.
In the words of LadyofGaerdon: A thoughtful reflection on
the Echo & Narcissus myth.
Summer WomanWoman, you are my burnt sienna sculpture on Sun-days.
You are hiding my strength in rufous hair
and I feel you: russet-flushed to the touch,
jagged collarbone curving into neck,
easing into shoulders, into breasts;
woman, you are the warmest stone –
you are summery stone
to my water-drenched hands.
Woman in deepest reverie, you are hiding
my strength in pacific oceans of titian;
in running veins. My grasp
slips from skin slopes of sun and stone,
slips from you.
Woman of ragged flint and oil,
in sleep, your wind-kissed stone-neck drifts,
surges into a soft arch in air –
and does not meet ground;
and does not bow.
In the words of AzizrianDaoXrak: "Summer Woman" is really lush and tactile, both in
terms of images and sounds; it is a really beautiful
story created for another deviant's sculpture!
LovelornThe bygone willows have wept
their strains into the streams,
which have drifted lyrical
past a gossamer lady.
In her ivory rook, she lingers,
the fey lady, the riddle of lore,
hearkening to her mirror and twining
her frail web close to a gentle soul.
Hers is a heart of a lonely boat,
and his is a fickle, relentless sailor.
So the shadows have sung her
ill-starred faith into lilting arcane fables.
Their destiny is of the
astronauts and astrologers,
and breathing out smoky valedictions
through the ages –
As the sunflower folk
reach for the epiphany;
in timeless, songless sunlight,
so does the lovelorn lady find her clarity.
In the words of LadyofGaerdon: A lovely tribute to the
classic "Lady of Shallot".
Please check out our
Featured Gallery, which shall be hosting all of
Vigilo's submitted works. Please also peruse her gallery for yet more awesomeness and remind her on her profile of what an amazing writer she is. Oh yes, and please
this article to spread the word!
Until next time...
Hello, lovely members! 
