Poetry
Poetry has long been Victoria’s hidden love that she solely shared with would be wooing & to connect with kindred hearts. In time she has started to share these works with the public, & for a brief time offers creative works that will be a part of a collective book of poems.
Dylan's Poem in Beats
by Victoria de LaBoulaye
Lessoned letters sermonize
and symbolize language
that cannot word prose of love.
What minstrel sighs heavy eyed
sick with lies
that canonized
- his
searching heart?
His echoed words crawled my halls
a voice
I thought was mine that called
- me here.
Silvered spoons Tangling blues
He said his magic
passed too soon
I'll take them all
and clear this tomb
to have his eyes run clear.
Voices, staining ears
melding
stirring dampening clear - Thinking
I caught this line
that ran through
the riverside
drenching you in mythos it cannot hide
your poet's heart
- from singing.
Sultan's Street
by Victoria de LaBoulaye
On the Sultan's Street
where Neil Young found life
I am trapped
in the glass
in the streetlamp's flame
aglow on my pale cheek
screams of the visitors
who open this olde door
drown in my wailing
buried by this tomb of pennies
I tore my flesh, pulled free
and now flail wretched limbs
which break under the effort of fleeing.
Beware
for I rattle these frames
intending to shake it all down
and visit you tenfold
with all of my terror
I will confound and despair
all are cursed
but for my babies
I and N
at three-oh-four
you can ask me to leave
but I will not find the door.
Fertile in Spring
by Victoria de LaBoulaye
it’s quite a thing
fertile in spring
he waits
he sighs
he kicks me hard
with words bruising inside
but the buds are here
and the damned morning birds cry
I sit on the bench
where is my man
where is my man
run if you can
you leave me cold at night
being alone
but being right
no warmth from the sun
when my back is not bare
no wind on my neck
if he won’t loosen my hair
lead me softly protesting
behind that bush
take me, your woman
you know that I am
nothing between
nothing
between
but skin salt and sand
the light green grass
mocks me to feel its sting
it’s quite a thing
fertile in spring
A Series of Unmade Bedding
by Victoria de LaBoulaye
A series of four poems spanning over a decade & a half of Victoria’s unwilling celibacy & tragic failed wooing of men. Looking back on her various letters & poetic messages, these five poems have a theme of bedding that struck Victoria as being poignant.
Presently being considered by top poetic publications.