Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Verse: Three for April 21, 2010

I: L'Age D'Or

Where does it begin
this infatuation
with then

all the was
and once
and previously

rendered in
black, white, stone
and sepia tones

you miss
the indescribable
wow of now

the untold and
as yet unfulfilled promise
of possibility

II: Scorpion

I wait
for dark

to gaze
upon your flesh

and in
a series

of sneak attacks
I sting

and when
I am through

with you
I return

to my true love
once more

the dark and sweet
embrace of solitude

III: Invitation

Join you
and your revolution?

when you have paraffin
and clean sheets

elegant earrings
and articulate hands

secret scents
and songs

and all I have
are words

1 comment:

  1. Ah, that compelling infatuation with Then...
    Rendered in my every reaction to a saved touchstone, or fleeting reminder, or stranger's poem.

    Also painted in the scent of Rainbath,
    the color of saved pantyhose,
    the squeeze of a kept one-piece bathing suit,
    and the smudged inks of a left-handed diarist.

    Painted there; stained in here.

    My amazing Thens flood to magnified life the instant our shared Now is past; each boils down into the sweet, sticky, addictive sauce of a quarter-century's unrequited something.

    I dislike poetry.
    I adore this.
    My monitor's raining now -- thank you?

    : L'Age D'Or

    Where does it begin
    this infatuation
    with then

    all the was
    and once
    and previously

    rendered in
    black, white, stone
    and sepia tones

    you miss
    the indescribable
    wow of now

    the untold and
    as yet unfulfilled promise
    of possibility

    ReplyDelete