I wrote this back in 2018 and still don’t know who it’s for.
“A Soul of Sky and Stars”
What need have I to outshine any star?
I am the night itself, a tapestry
Of lights more piercing for their frame of dark
Than any ray from simple sun could be.
Chiaroscuro love is not for all;
The constellation of my body needs
To be explored by one who is enthralled
Not just by stars, but emptiness between.
So come, oh, come, thou spacefaring stranger,
Thou dauntless wanderer in search of joy
Who looks upon the night as wild pleasure.
So come and seek me, if you dare deploy.
Inside my heart a galaxy resides.
Consider this before you enter here:
If once you chart and love this foreign sky
Could you, in truth, return to who you were?
~Elena Nola
The Alchemists’ Creed
Record the measurement of time with graves
Not seconds, minutes, hours. From tyranny
Of gears we come unbound; we are not slaves
To counterpoint or linearity
Replace the wheelings of the stars with heat
A catalyst applied like key to lock
Consuming all the dry and obsolete
To turn the spiral faster than the clock
Submit to chaos and necessity
Of chance; the process cannot be contained
The irony of alchemy: to see
An end, but not the path by which attained
Surrender to a wider-seeing source
Oh, lord of ash and fire, with scent of stars
And roses formed of embers glowing orange
Incinerate what’s done; let it be char
Transform the darkest shadow so it turns
From emptiness to flame; as bright my light
So deep my dark, but even so, it burns
Black star invisible against the night
All courses are innately changeable
To start a phoenix burn takes just a spark
We hold this truth to be immutable:
Who carries soul of flame need fear no dark
~Elena Nola
The Astronomer
I want to know each star within the galaxy
Of you, to measure its coordinates and map
Its place amidst the whole, then calculate degree
Of luminosity by noting every gap.
I want to learn the constellations you have found,
To see your sky as through your eyes, then offer you
My own interpretation of the chart. Not bound
To your perspective, I can show you you anew.
I want to watch the slow and swirling dance unfold
Across the span of time, to spot the patterns in
Your lights so I can also track the changes told
By shifting stars: some reignite while others dim.
I want to spiral in and reach your very heart,
To slip between your arms and come to rest at last,
To rearrange your gravity with my soul’s mass,
Fixed at your center, now, the one unmoving part.
~Elena Nola
Nirvana Bourbon
Another perfume poem. This one was published in the spring 2020 edition of Thimble Literary Magazine, volume 2.4.
“Nirvana Bourbon”
The smell of the glue I used to repair my shattered self Isn’t the carcinogenic burn of polymers, but vanilla Not the pods, but the extract, boozy and opaque Sharply alcoholic but too thick to be a cocktail A tarrish smear between broken edges The scent pervasive because I used a lot of resin Not from overapplication—there were just so many pieces The drying fumes were many things to my mosaic soul Warmth and beauty, the comfort of familiar The solace of tradition and the escape from memory Deliciousness, exoticness, expensiveness, permissiveness I used them all to tether mind to body, heart to chest For a time I was more glue than woman, more dead than living The channels of adhesive no substitute for veins I hovered in the cloud above my curing skin Taking refuge in vanilla, and hiding in the lie That if I could still find beauty, then I must be all right -Elena Nola
Elena Nola, Poet 