Violetarojo April 7, 2011 by Angel
Violetarojo by ©Angelika

Spiral Aquatic Angel by Violetarojo Melissa Wolverton is sitting deep in the ocean on a rock ledge she is portrayed as a mermaid. Thee original photograph of Spiral used to draw this image was by Scott Sage and was taken in 2009.
Aquatic Angel • Spiral • ©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


I find you there where it all began
Suspended at the earths core
Surrounded by the chambers of the deep
I find myself there where it all ends
Suspended at the earths ceiling
Surrounded by black hollowed
Intergalactic corridors

Wondering why I allow myself to desire
That which might or might not ever be
Could I breathe within your realm
Or you in mine

Needles cascade like fingers
Against my skin searching for a vein
A slight push pull then push
Delivers me from this pain
Pain that wages forces from hell
Against clanging cymbals
In an effort to delay me
From my true destiny
Disguised masking itself
It slowly decays the span of my dreams

Reveal the truth and secretly strengthen me
As I make my stand against
That which tries to devour me
To deliver me to death
I am tormented
By this all consuming inquisitor

Then it commences
The dialogue the fantasy
“Just come to Georgia”
Like a vinyl record
With a narrow channel
The arm of the phonograph
Automatically jumps back to the groove

There is resolve
To this hyper dilemma
Aquatic or Space
Creates an impasse
How to maneuver a kiss

I am directed to the second of the first
You are the lover of another and still
Waiting at every turn there are others
Lurking in the corners of the waiting
For their own turn
Yearning for a drop of you to fall
To their lips

We probe our
Dissection dimension extension
Exposing the micro electronic system
That stimulates genius and brilliance
Like a magnet pulling at the heart
Throwing down the stars at both our feet
Tangled in the intricacy of a dance
Taking place in space
Between two, you and I
In motion
A beautiful ballet
Thousands of optic
Light years away

Written For Spiral
August 19-23, 2009
©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


I am not angel
I am not demon
I am not alien
I am but human

When I die I will sleep
I will have not even the inkling
Of the scent of life or death
Of heaven earth or hell

When I rise I will be as the angels
Without memory of my former existence
But each moment that I am here now
Since you crossed my path
I am bearing the pain of this journey alone
The longing to know you even just once more
Overwhelms my thoughts and sleep

Like a wind you have come to me
And stirred me to the deepest reach
You have woken that which slept
You have broken the locks
You rattled loose the chains on the gates
That kept me at safe distance form that
That which was secret within me

It has now found the surface and moves quickly
Like a rising moon breaking through dark clouds
A quiet melody sung across a raging sea

That yearns to be heard
Like a newborn grasps first breath
A song with voice of ancient lore
Once lost but found and revealed to me
Through the sweet harmonies that are the words
You sing as if written for me but how could it be
As we have but only met less than one yesteryear

The distance of time that lays itself like a river
Between us is not greater than the closeness that we shared
Even if but for a moment I gazed but a mere glance
Pierced me as I sunk into you
Through your eyes
Into beauty true and divine

I am left without speech there can be not even sound
For to utter anything would be to lose this moment forever
The knowing of this omen that longs to be revealed
In my heart I have always known thee would come to me
So burn me now with the everlasting fire
Leave your mark in me that I might rage forevermore
Screaming I will wake from sleep and see
As your visions carry me through this despair
I am held In the cradle of your songs
Songs that leave me with the longing
To know you even just once more
Is this foolish of me, indeed
For it would not fill me
It would not ever be enough

©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


While I slowly kill you I want to sink my hands
Deep inside you then press them hard
Against your soft pale skin
With your face turned towards the window
I will stare into the pane and watch your eyes
Glazed with the pleasure of your last breath
Coming from my mouth as I breathe into your lungs
The oxygen that will revive you and force a gasp
To run the length of your being
Like a pack of wolves
Running up your throat
For one last meal
Then and there you will share in the knowing
Of a significant event at which
We were both in attendance
The making of a covenant
Sworn to and sealed with our blood
Which only now you silently declare
Within a doubting mind
A heart overcome with lusts for worldly pleasures
Pleasures that easily tumble then fall and burn to ash
Like your pure soft pale skin under a radiant light
Illuminating the obscure pathogens
That flow within our veins
Contaminating those whom we allow to drink
We feast and celebrate new life
Wrapped in pure soft pale skin of death

©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


I looked down I was laying on a slab
With a tag on my foot that read, Jane Doe
Found restrained unclaimed
God & the devil in a tug of war
Fight’n real hard over my fucking soul
Demons in the corner
With my blood on their knees
Vapors & Screams
Angels in the beams
Angels in the beams
Angels in the beams
Swords in the ceiling
Turning every which way
You on the floor twisted & torn
Hands on the rails wailing over me
Baby please don’t leave me
Baby please don’t go
Don’t you remember what I told you
Don’t you remember when I said
I love you
I love you
I wont live without you
Baby please don’t leave me
So here I am dying for you
Why so surprised why so fucking blue
I’m still a hermit a romantic fool
In a four wall particle suburban cave
[screams in background] fuck
I never ever knew you
Cause I never ever met you
I never touched you
Never held you
Never bit you
Never kissed you
Never fucked you
Never felt you inside of me
Inside of you got inside of me
And now I’m through
Baby am I through to you
Baby am I finally through to you
I’m through

Written For Spiral
©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


Its not just at that house
The one down the street
Even though yours sits
On a pretty gray slab of cement
You still have a basement
Filled with little horrors
Seeping from the cracks
Covered up and hidden
With a starched white Van Heusen
A thin red rayon and acetate Stratford
Embroidered horse bust
And down chevrons in white and blue
Slicked back hair and black piercing eyes

©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


I wish I owned a farm
So when I died I could leave it to you
Like the one that haunted you
The one you drove past
So many times and dreamed about

A hopscotch walkway filled with stars & moons
Leads you directly to the main house
Intrigue draws your attentions to a small cemetery
Two graves circled by a white wrought iron fence
Crowned with a solitary marble cross
The headstone tilts towards the eastern ridge
Worn down but still legible it reads
Lily Wilcox & Wilhelmina Rutherford
Beloved Friends & Companions
May They Rest In Peace
The town tattler wrote that they were found
Joined together clutching each other in the barn
The autopsy revealed a lovers potion
Concocted to induce death
Lily & Wilhelmina embraced shut their eyes
Took their last breaths kissed and died
Only seconds apart long before
The blaze had a chance to reach their flesh
Some say the fire was set by them
Others say it was townsfolk with malicious intent
I believe they loved so deep
Rather they did to die together
Than be forced to live apart
Others whisper things best left unsaid
Truth be told only God and them know

At the end of the main road
Bronze gates twelve feet high and three times wide
With the word Tarantulae inscribed across the top
Cherubim angels six on each side glance downward
If you look long enough you can watch their eyes follow you
A scroll in one hand and plume in the other
They make record of all that pass this way
A narrow dirt lane lined with weeping willows
Steers you to a turnaround adorned with magnificent columns
You are greeted by a grand wraparound porch
Five steps up to solid mahogany doors
Suspended above a poised narrow foyer
A decadent art nouveau staircase
Spiraling from floor to floor
Adorned with grandeur and wounded dreams
Ancestry dating back to seventeen ten
Elegance like royal jewels reflects bravura
Even through the broken beveled glass
Forever is delicately preserved in gold leafed oval frames
As you reach the third floor you are breathless
You stand there speechless facing her
She is untainted splendor
She is true beauty she is Aquatic Angel
Hung alone above an emerald lined saltwater pool
Filled with a variety of sea fans corals and lion fish
At dawn ravens circle and tint the blue skies black
At dusk candlelight cascades against her from ceiling to floor
The moons rays glisten across her face and bring her to life
Outside on the balcony a single empty French velvet chair
Set in her direction rocks a lonely wind

Out by the pasture stands an ole burnt barn
Leaning to one side forced to leave it in place
As it was written so it would be
Last words to commemorate the ages
A homage to their lives
They etched hearts and I love you
Next to their names on the rafters and beams
The walls tell a tale seasons of hope and despair
Scorched diamond placed copper tiles
One next to the other
A patch work of sorrow and joy
Quilted together and seamed with flames
A covering of forbidden love
A time long passed
Buried but not ever forgotten

I go there at night with my bow and arrows
In a chain mail gown my sword at my side
I lay face up on the cold dim ground
Right there where they found them
Looking through holes in the roof
I shoot my arrows to nowhere
One for every letter as I speak your name
Aquatic Angel
Then suddenly I find that flawless star
Behind the clouds that no one sees but me
I force my breath through my lips
I make a musical sound and draw it to me
I close my eyes and throw my fists to the air
I open my hands and specks of ash and dust
Rush back casing me like a sheer silk slip
I am lifted up into the mist of the firmament
Where I search you out and find you
There wherever there happens to be

This night will be the night I will sweep down
And brush my fingers against your silhouette
You raise your hands scraping your nails
Over the surface of my back tears open
As you tilt your head back
A single bead of blood
Drops onto your voluptuous mouth
I stretch through the abyss
Your red silk hair coils round me
I pull you up dividing the horizon
Falls like shards of glass to the surface
You see my shadow and try to lock on
Your radar screams as we jump time
Sub rosa I whisper to you
Lock on lock on to me
Electrons run through your spine
Cling to my flesh in circular motion
Your legs crush my waist
Your somatic senses rage
The eventual disintegrates
You contemplate us in a neophiliac aspect
As you look through to the other side
Everything else disappears

There wherever there happens to be
Is where we are just you and I
You touching me touching you hard
We move thrashing against earths barrier
Till we break through
Through a lava rain
To the planets core
Then you know
We are not creeping crawling things
We are not mammal
We are not just flesh and bone
We are not mere human

The clock sounds its warning
Beckoning our return
I take you up through and over
Over mountains and seas
Your heart pumps against my vertebral column
I turn and thrust my hand inside you one last time
All the way to your womb
We rest in the moment
That spins a thousand times a thousand years
Then you drive your screams against me
As we push and pull inside you inside me
Giving birth to we

There on the farm
There in the burnt barn
There on the cold dim ground
Inside you inside me
Laying in the cradle of your pulse
Making me scream
Making me bleed
Painting you painting me red

Written For Spiral
Conceived November 21, 2009 12:00 A.M.
©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo


Is the sun that wraps its arms around me
That warms me from a cold wind
That comes at me with ill intent
Like a blazing fire
Filled with judgments
Stemming from insecurities & jealousy
Beguiled aspersions dispersed
From one to another
That would incinerate my soul
And cremate that from which I am is
SOL is gamut is recognized notes
Complete an entire series
Dimensions extensions
Orbit of the fifth tone
Quality of sound
Distinct pitch
Intervals not in words
But timbre of instrument or voice
Effecting light injecting color
Producing shades that blur
Because linear views corrode the SOL
An old French coin worth 12 deniers
SOL is that which is solid
In that which is liquid
Wraps around my hand sinks into you
Who becomes me each day is filled
With the beauty of the knowing
That my heart belongs
Only to one who is like me
Woman with woman is SOL
Is my solemnization

©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo

©Petra Maricela Thompson Violetarojo

Elevation or Home