Templar Phoenix Literary Review

Templar Phoenix Literary Review - Volume 1, Number 1 - Spring 2000

JESSICA PADYKULA

Tragic Heroine

Entombed within Herself
silent She stood.
Watching,
feeling Her whole body rise and fall.

Immortal understanding
wrapped in a shroud of opulent beauty.
Faded glory incessantly surfacing,
and all that comes with years of shielded pride.

Suspended disbelief drenches Her very being
while Her hands shake
with anticipation
and wonder.

The sword She wields comes unsheathed
as power consumes and destroys Her.
She cuts through the moment,
jabbing at the air with gleeful abandon.

Her eyes,
shed silent
knowing tears
and She breaks free from the chains which for so long held Her fury.
Boxed in on all sides,
frantic She runs
leaving traces of the rage which bleed from Her hands as She disappears into
the darkness.

Our tragic Heroine emerges elegantly from the darkness
fresh from her tower by the sea.
Blessed are the angels which bestow her with beauty
and softness.

Archaic divinity demands attention and strikes a chord with the masses.
Turbulent crowds destroy serenity while drowning in ambivalence.
Venom pours from the fountain of youth
flooding the gates with death.

Princess of tragedy
diaphanous and taunting,
just smiles Her tragic smile;
hollow,
daunting,
enigmatic
and true.

Falling Under

Raging fury burns her as she leans forward to touch my hand.
I told her not to touch,
but that's like giving candy to a small child
and then telling her not to eat it.

Her eyes glow red-hot like coal and I know she doesn't understand.
My ashen skin tingles and I shiver,
pulling the worn blanket tighter around my shoulders.

I can feel her eyes burning me,
my skin,
carving out tiny holes in the back of my neck.

My hands shake and I reach for her.
She recoils violently
and turns away from me.
I can't see her eyes but I know they are black with anger.
Shining and angry,
her eyes will always tell a story;
while mine will always hide one.

She buries her head in her hands,
struggling with the moment we are trapped in,
making no attempt to unravel herself from my mind.

I lie invisibly still,
holding hostage the soul I once knew,
silently swimming through a time where all was known.
Stopping only once,
to shake from me the weight of a thousand voices all screaming my name.

She slowly loses herself in the maze of absolution
coming to terms with the death of me.

About the Poet

Jessica Padykula is a 20 year old Canadian university student currently studying English Literature. She has aspirations in print journalism, and hopes one day soon to travel to as many parts of the world as she possibly can. She loves to write, about anything and everything; but poetry is a passion she only recently discovered lived within her. She loves to read poetry as well as write it and does so on a regular basis. When she is not away at school she lives with her parents, sister, and two cats in Newmarket, Ontario.

E-Mail: Starkicker75@yahoo.ca