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Showing posts by: Roz Kaveney click to see Roz Kaveney's profile
Sun
Aug 26 2012 12:36pm

Endymion

(For Neil Armstrong)

In her white silent place, the hangings dust,
grey pebbles stretching to the edge of black
so far away. The goddess feels a lack
somewhere elsewhere, an ache deep as her crust

and weeps dry tears. The gentleman is gone
the first who ever called. His feet were light
as he danced on her. Went into the night
quite soon, his calling and his mission done

yet still his marks remain. Footfalls and flag.
The others she forgets. He was the first
to slake her ages long and lonely thirst
for suitors. Now she feels the years drag

as they did not before he came to call.
Our grief compared to hers weighs naught at all.


Roz Kaveney's novel Rhapsody of Blood: Rituals is just out from Plus One Press. Next month, A Midsummer Night's Press will publish two poetry collections, Dialectic of the Flesh and What If What's Imagined Were All True.

Sun
Apr 15 2012 1:00pm
Poetry

The Ballad of Death and the Maid

Roz Kaveney

Roz Kaveney on National Poetry MonthTor.com is celebrating National Poetry Month by featuring science fiction and fantasy poetry from a variety of SFF authors. You’ll find classic works, hidden gems, and new commissions featured on the site throughout the month. Bookmark the Poetry Month index for easy reading.

This Sunday we feature “The Ballad of Death and the Maid” by Roz Kaveney, which originally appeared on the author’s Livejournal here.

[Read “The Ballad of Death and the Maid”]

Sun
Apr 10 2011 2:30pm
Poetry

Twelve Steampunk Sonnets

Roz Kaveney

Of this sequence of sonnets, which originally appeared on her personal weblog in November 2010, Roz Kaveney notes: “In various LiveJournal posts, Charles Stross and Cat Valente argued provocatively that steampunk had played itself out. These poems were my way of begging to differ—I took all of their points and yet was still in love with the imagery.”

[Publishers' Note: This was originally posted as “Seven Steampunk Sonnets” because when we went to the author's LiveJournal to retrieve their texts, several poems in the sequence were invisible to us due to that site's ongoing problems. For such an error to happen due to Russian cyberwarfare seems, well, fantastical—a “-punk” somewhere between cyber and steam. While we have changed the title of this post and restored the missing poems, in order to minimize further confusion we have left the post's unique URL unaltered.]

 

Vengeance

Small zeppelins were parked outside the ball
moored to the gaslights. Out of shadows crept
the monocled adventuress, who stepped
up to the door and had announced to all

by flunkeys that she meant to punish those
who stole her father’s patents, would await
them at the duelling ground. Her quiet hate
made her cheeks bright. Her long and genteel nose

expressed her scorn at this appalling age
when men had lost their honour. She had brought
pistols, and swords, and lasers, and she fought
the six old men, in turn. She’d lived in rage

so long their deaths were just the bloody start
of all the wars she harboured in her heart.

[Eleven more steampunk sonnets]