Fiction
Realistic fiction and a dollop of magical realism.
Genre
Science fiction and fantasy.
Live
Improvised stories told live around a virtual Halloween campfire.
Poetry
Just a few samples, from formal and free verse to limericks.
Lit crit
Essays on various literary topics.
All contents of this site are
© Copyright 1998-2010
Raphael Koster.
All rights reserved.
The views expressed here are my own, and not necessarily endorsed by any former or current employer.
A Sonnet
Describe the eyes; I fail. Describe the face:
I try, but nothing seems to match in song
The visage in my mind. There is no place
In metaphor that serves to sing my longing.
So. Perhaps none can, none will, not now,
Nor ever, understand the passion pent
Within my heart. No verse will serve, no loud
Declaiming, quiet whispers, letters sent.
If I, with words at my command, cannot
Convey my love even to myself--such
Small hope have I of my love knowing what
Resides within my heart! Small hope--yet much
Is said by silence and a knowing glance;
Enough, indeed, this invitation to the dance.
"She Walks like a Ghost"
She walks like a ghost, gliding translucent,
Hair swirling madly in fingers of wind.
Where are the hands to cup her cold cheeks?
To warm her pale skin with blushes and sin?
She is the rusalka, the spirit, the Gypsy;
She is the lonely, the lovelorn, the lost...
Yet even the shades that walk in the shadows
Must feel love--and must know its cost.
Elegy for Kiera
I miss her gray eyes with twinkles of murder,
This sister of mine who is gone;
She walked the knife edge of civilization
And preyed on the meek and the strong.
She took life as she found it, usually by force,
And left behind empty hearts and a corpse.
She baited her rivals with words tinged with wry,
This sister of mine who is gone.
She struck from behind and betrayed unacquainted
And never stayed good friends for long.
She took love as she found it, often by stealth
And robbed men of life and good health.
I miss her small smile as she faced her dark future--
This sister of mine who is gone;
She knew just how empty the nights could extend
When one sells people's lives for a song.
She loved life and she lost it, perhaps lost even more,
This Kiera I miss, this sister, this soul sold past darkness' door.
