Part I Pretty winter
Shall I see you again? -tonight,
In the middle of winter,
When shadows die by the lampposts,
We'll ride to a place,
Where moon phials streak across the mended mirrors,
And dust collects on the velvet tables -
A phantom of the snow outside.
I conjure the images, you dance the blues,
And here we are, blue statues of quicksilver -
For falling, breathing rose petals on the windows:
They ice themselves and cover
Our sleep, and conscience, and night - away.
We know the touch expires and the perfume fades
With time into the rushing headlights of the streets,
And I will keep forgetting how to hold my head
We stay together in a place, an apparition of our dreams,
Statues of shadow to die in the morning,
Dissolve together, and dance to the blues,
On the parquet, burning, from so many feet.
Part II - Christmas Garland
The day I accepted I loved You -
As in bold, italic, formal - Sir,
Mere yawn thrown on the scattered poems,
An arrow whistling in the dreamy streets -
So cold, so lost,
Gold and blue, and sky in feathers,
And far away, on the very borders
Of the fingerprint universe
I painted for both of us,
It stretched across the whole of humanity,
It tickled in your ear
And brushed against your frozen cheeks,
And plunged together with the snow,
Where it would agonize and melt -
Drops of moon on the pavement.
My love is but a blasphemy,
Reach out and fall,
Winter's oaths keep breaking,
And I'm burnt out -
An old Christmas garland
On its last Christmas tree.
Part III - Meeting Again
I let the wind draw ice sculptures from my breath,
And play with them, and break them,
Leaving but dunes of ashes and white sleeves
To billow in the shadows.
I let you draw me close to you -again -
You took my hand in yours and showed me
How to glide, so smoothly, through the floor,
Like underwater gymnast.
I let you watch me cry -though you don't know this -
With closed eyelids, tantalizing hints.
I let you braid my lashes to the night and marry
The break of cosmos, slipping in between my lips.
| I think your anthology is very well written and each poem flows into the next and this makes the whole thing hang together perfectly.|
A superb scrapbook you have here...keep adding to it.
|| Posted on 2006-02-04 00:00:00 | by Frank Maguire | [ Reply to This ] |