‘The Great Schism’ and other poems by Stephan Tashoff
By: Stephan Tashoff
The Great Schism
My bright side is in the morning light.
When noon tolls,
darkness encroaches the borders
of my soul.
There is a March on the corner
of my greatness.
Yet the smile from a flower’s stem
can send me weightless.
There is a chance for upheaval
In every beginning.
Though, I plant my dreams in soil.
Nurture is through practitioning.
There is a shatter in the crease
of every minute.
That which is far greater than ourselves
then we could have ever imagined.
Mirrored time is merely the epicenter
of one’s ending
to another’s beginning.
There is a line of spotted glory
earmarking our own schism.
Love is threatened
to the left of our searching, while the right,
the brightest side clings to our love’s story.
###
When Night Cannot Sleep
When night cannot sleep
and
the day can’t stay awake.
I can see it behind
the inside of my eyes’
parched lips.
It is the brighter side
of light that remains elusive
to absent hands in the darkness.
What champions life
are the buttresses
of sovereign love.
the waves that crash against tempered glass
softens the face of strength’s anger.
Regret is temptation
from an egos laughter burgeoned from failure.
What is coupled to a smile?
Is knowing we can do better.
###
Something Worth Promising
It is simple, My arousal!
the catch of lace against your skin.
My eyes cannot pin
the relevance of your curves to my heart’s prism.
In a heretic’s wisdom
With a pinch, reality mutes my vision
Our bodies promise illusion
In an underpinning collapse of our symmetry
I feel of your body’s poetry
What is given is received in the synonym of delight
It is my lips that are in twilight
A soft glow atop as we lay supine
you have speared mine
amongst angels afloat.
I grip and let go,
and fall from the sheets of divinity.
I rinse in your serenity. I chase the Sol of your expression
glancing touch of affection
felt after
A performance steeped in flatter!
Between a second parallel of time and emotion
A confluent ocean
brimmed in the majesty of our own animation.
Better than my own imagination
My gait…shuttered with fatigue
I lasted for a league.
Never once did we have to enjoy something missing
You are something worth promising.
###
Stephan Tashoff has been writing poetry for more than thirty years. He writes mainly for loved ones and for special occasions. For Stephan, writing is a path, a means of getting his feelings from one place to the next. There is nothing more enjoyable than linking words together, cleverly, to create a moment. Whether that moment is filled with love or sadness, both can lead to a significant moment in Stephan’s poetry that the reader can partake in.