PARODY Poem: Clashing stage scenes, by Shanti Cebrero

At first glance
–the ripples of the water–
the night has ensued,
Hell is empty, and all the demons have entered–

Scene l.

Possession.

The shades of scarves depict scarlet red,
Gorged from the inside out…
he craves the sound of dancing
and the sight of song,

Ecstatic in her subconscious reverie
infecting the mariachi with her despairing contortion,
Fingers warped in an eternal battle of elongation,
She finds the expression unexpressed until death,

…or so says the audience.

The ekphrastic strums of pair-like instruments vibrate through the night,
Translike for the player… and the played,
Two tunes synchronizing for the muse,
Set on a pedestal for her self-deprecation,
Captive of her own infective body,

Nothing more than an open sore to be intruded upon.

Half the canvas enthralled with the black dahlia,
The other susceptible to their own gloomy dreams,
Midnight strikes,
The room illuminated by the encompassing shadow,
Vibrating heart-strings connecting the mortal souls,

Luminescent skin pale as moonlight,
Levitating two inches on stilted flats,
Fabric inimical to the stage scene; set,
Vibrant hues clashing to wanting shades,
The gateways to her soul empty voids,

Scene ll.

Controversy.

The belief of not me spurs her on,
Possessive of her sprouting power
only ink smeared smudgedly on a piece of paper,
All entranced…
But that of the round, sunlit jewel

Solitary in its lonesome,
Similar to the empty vessel,
Absent of any hellish denizen,
For once, in her awkward embrace,
Abstinence was not obeyed.