Ophelia, by Odilon Redon
I gather her - limped hair & pale bones
Out of the water, bedraggled as washed-
out page, skirted & flamed
by love's complicated twists & turns -
I brush the wild flowers from her cheeks-
Scrap away dead leaves & tangled roots-
Gently, I press on her lips- sip this brew
Stirred with orange & yellow seeds
Mixed with tea leaves & sea-
weeds, stained with effervescent salt-
Hovering pollen dust swells
Into pools of blue sky-
Open your eyes & hear the murmurings
Of cinnamon trees, of red-song birds
There's a place for your dreams, sacred
& untouched by anyone but
you
Beautifully shaped by love & will
There is the garden
Where you can run freely & be
My hands will guide you, a step at
a time, until your voice grows stronger
Again, Love is madness
But you are braver than you can imagine-
War & peace, ink & sword
Your hands can birth & hold them, fiercely as sun-
There's a murmur, I hear -
There's another beat, I see you
Rising once more,
My beautiful daughter
Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Play it again
& The Art by Odilon Redon
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~
the night's spell lingers
after we are joined ribs & hands
intimately, your name still on my lips
scent of musky leather & spicy jasmine-
this is the charm
as we knit a reunion:
there is seeding & watering of roots,
each raindrop, a caress that dares me
to risk & fall further into your
beautiful nakedness-
warm as soil, bronze & startling luster
I'll always remember -
Touch me, I am parched -
you spin this raw canvas
the bluest-purple sky I have ever seen -
my wind-song,
electric as samba drums-
refrains an evening star, pearl-luster & opulent-
cover me with mad pollen of spring
and let your mouth seek me
as it was - your first kiss
turning me pink-petaled under late April sky-
The radiance of the morning
dazzles because you're here
unequivocally
claiming all of my heart-sewn words -
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~ Happy weekend ~
Picture credit: here
I don't see her often, a whiff of shadow
in mirrored wall or pale afternoon sun
But come night, she's a secret to be unfolded-
Something parched, something incomplete
Oozes out, become threads & ink
Her fingers lift to charcoal the empty page
Blurred by moonlight, she fetches a storm
underneath the quiet sky & labels it- Rapture -
The red moon is all hers,
There's electricity in her lush ebony hair.
Where the path breaks into different crossing
There she runs to see what's coming next, next-
Come morning, there is body she inhabits.
Numbers. Efficiency. A box within a room.
That is what the world wants to see. She complies
by dropping a token in the metal box . Only her belly
grumbles from this subway train chase
with its door chimes forever opening & closing -
Seeds. How she loves beginnings. Every first
stolen kiss, a stab of memory lingers like dewdrops.
Desire. The quick inhalation of passion.
Warm wine. The bleeding of hours, sweet as tangerines.
I sometimes forget how she writes,
what she dreams of, but she lingers faint as I'm right here
By candlelight, she creaks to life,
awash with wild asterisks & stars I couldn't number -
Her pulse grows stronger, every season is an awakening
We disappear across the page, a duet of shade & light -
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Self-portrait by Brian Miller ~ Thanks for the visit ~
Everywhere is rain, colored of iced tea
And I'm sinking, half-awake, half-asleep
My one hand cuts thunder,
while another hand turns the door closed
My one eye is weeping willow tree,
while another eye wants to get rid of bees
My lips insist in replaying each word you said
while my tongue lingers over your name:
a sweet fruit, melting of dark chocolate -
embers of long kiss, sweat from your brow & back -
There is madness in having two moons
speak in broken proverbs & torn sentences
All words are lost in translation
Except this fevered war on nerves & bones
I curl deeper into this woman, foolishly
believing she can tame a wildcat of a man
The cold strangles my throat, I want to escape
But I'm in limbo, floating in your perfume
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Emotion in Poetry Hosted by Claudia
and Poets United - Midweek Motif - Fool for Poetry - Hosted by Susan C.
picture credit: here
