Sylvia Sharpentier

Leaning by the bell, arms open to the dominion of lights so bombastique 
Harrowed by lawless but resolved in my self-legislation
I chew away my rose like a bovine
'Round the winding alley in the groovin' haze 
Made of primeval memories and molecular scars; where
Snowflakes parachute geometrically under a heavenly maze

An orphan who lost himself in a shipwreck
Shied naught from his prayer, his crown
For the constitution of this authentic life
He stands alone in mystery
As calmly as a protester to romance
Like the nameless clock in a midnight plaza

As I rise over the velet dusk
The world contracts to a spectacular moment
Under my winged talaria telling
I am my own definition for all things untranslatable
Then I contemplate like a bewitched apostate
And march on ceaselessly to the light of day
For king is a poet who was forced to be a warrior 

Leaning against the canal rails, my cig afire,
My spirit hovering, my coat untethered
Displaced since birth
Disjointed through life
Dismantled after death
Black waves roll across the calamitous roars of night
As I drown majestically into the quietest void in me

An empire under my feet
A universe in my eyes
Whispers to God I cast in dissolving chariots of smoke
For His name to outlive me to perpetuity
This rickety life, a rocketin' lie
A firework on the Fourth of July
I am a prayer in His temple
Till the day comes I shed my mortal coil

This is my life
A breath, a moment, and a glory