“Would you complain because a beautiful sunset doesn’t have a future or a shooting star a payoff? And why should romance ‘lead anywhere’? Passion isn’t a path through the woods. Passion is the woods.”
― Tom Robbins

 

 

I wonder when one day

We’ll pocket our passions

They’ll fasten  in look-see  neck  lockets

Soon it’ll just seem fair

To wear them

She’ll share hers in sunlight sidewalks.

 

Fashion  will see to it  someday & night We

Could  unabashedly

Could undress off our soft underthings

Could  show  softer

Bold  and  tender

Expressings

SUBTITLED

July 1, 2015

This  one  liaison

We’ll go so  for foreign films

Our unbridled pillow talk there,

On chiseled crystal chaise lounge chairs,

Will be subtitled.

.

We’d meet.

One moon  might

Light  one  clutch,

Tonight  once closed curtains

Might one  much-open-legged open.

We’d mean

To go  so far as to

Show our gods of love  lots what they’d bet on,

Completedly   W/some things &

Unneededly  subtitlings.

.

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.Image

Photos from Godard’s “Alphaville”

S T A N D U P

June 25, 2015

I was well into my spinning

Out spontaneous routines,

Original material

for mostly me, I guess, I mean.

It was going her direction.

I try to make babies laugh ,too.

But she wasn’t  having it,

and at the same time she was having me, yet

She assumed

For some time, yet.

I . . . C L A I M

June 13, 2015

I may make a little make-believe

But I bet when I typeset my type;

Chisel gray poems for the foreign to read,

I’ll stand by all stories I tell the wife.

On the stand, I’ll perjure myself to myself.

But then there’s a fierce fire, uncontrolled,

when I hear, “he’s a liar, so I’m told.”

.

What I say, when I must is

Only partially, & hardly to blame.

The code me & my god go by

Only improbably applies.

Only I can keep my heart’s claim.

.

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.

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(for sunni, honestly)

FROM OUR BLANKET FORT

April 14, 2015

They’ll all swear  We’ll prefer

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Our own company.   We  accomplice.

.

They don’t speak for us.

P I C

February 27, 2015

She’s got a cotton nightgown.

Gracing a terrace, with sea  &  citylights, downtown.

I’m facing her, taking terrific pictures,

With my eyes, and with  all my might.

She spins some, specific with; “And I  know  lightening.”

My Plea, Sure.

November 4, 2014

I loved  under my breath

Just above the collar-

Back of her moon-colored sundress.

Hold on  to my breath

Hold, and I holy hope

Right forthright for our portal opening

& if we’d once/ Go take this chance

This  achy  slow  dance,

This must leave heaven

Just one heave away

S K I E S

May 30, 2014

All the solace we take

From phone calls we make

We’ll face away again from curtains

& inside that, the screen.

We’ll turn away  to devout attention,

Without mentioning  our skies between

Words, our flying  there  certainly

& without a doubt  again

We’re saved  in an

Enclave

Our Flicker

April 11, 2014

 

As paralyzed,

I beseech to reach to you

As I had to shade my eyes

I been open and shut to you

(She’s out & out shut out to me)

.

.As soon as I realized

I became a flame to you

As I had manhandled a candle

Our flicker likes to go to shadows

(we’re far & away too far & away)

 

 

The Absensualist

March 11, 2014

I could finally confide

that lately I’d  lost

that long drive that’d taken me

off all my maps.

.

She would certainly intercede,

Brought fresh buds through frost,

A return drive she’d taken me

Back onto new paths.

.

.

.

I can close my eyes  and see

Her heart  near and warm

But open  I can’t see

Her hand on my arm.

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(from july 2010)