Friday, June 16, 2006

I Never Thought Procrastination Contained Romance

We drank coffee and talked for an hour

‘Il faut que la jeunesse se passé’
‘Guignol! mon semblable,—mon frère!'

Not everything was done with clean hands
But always with clean character

‘You gave me hyacinths last year to the day’
‘And you had wet hair and a promise’

Her hair glowed into words

‘Remember the warmth of winter?’
‘I’d rather not count eternity in seasons’

Dead trees give no relief, but for a shadow
They leave a heap of broken words exposed

At one point her shadow rose too high
Branches eventually die without roots

‘I know you’re forming smoke patterns with your eyes’
‘I really like that rug. It’s elegant – unintelligible.’

The wind crosses the Charles unheard in summer
Or maybe it’s the background to a song

It could be a song long forgotten, devoid of evening
It may have been danced through burgundy yesterdays

‘When we’re both old and gray, I’ll send you hyacinths’
‘It’ll be a dark wine hour, and my eyes will curse and storm’

It’s evening and the woman draws her black hair back
There was a moment of torturous surrender

‘If the sea was calm, my heart would have responded’
‘Storm is all I know, and the ruins lap against my walls.’


Blogger Inkblot said...

unadulterated cherished anguish. the lovesong you need to taste how good the tears feel.

4:14 AM  
Blogger Haider Droubi said...

nice blog,,very nice pics ..

6:51 AM  
Blogger Jon Cox said...


1:50 AM  
Blogger Prat said...

Exqusitely beautiful.

5:04 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

a augmentation and mirror response that really dusts the cobwebs.

9:18 AM  
Blogger Stormy Zephyr said...

One of the your best poems I have read, and I certainly am not exaggerating. You seem to get better with each passing day. 'Storm is all I know...' you know more than just to spin words in a storm that sweeps the readers off their feet; it takes them along to a place you want to show them, but tantalizingly fall short of entering, remaining a mute observer to the magic of words that is spun here, waiting to clench it in their open palms. Bravo!

10:55 PM  
Blogger bert moth said...

inkblot - Irony from here to the moon...

haider droubi - Nice of you to say so. Thank you.

jon - Thank you. You've got a pocketful of zest. I like it.

prat - I searched 'exquisitely beautiful' just for kicks and this appeared: Russian dominatrix, leather boot worship, face stepping. I'm obviously in good company.

cj - a neophyte's rendition...

stormy zephyr - Wow. Thanks a lot, man. This is a place for me to learn and experiment more than anything.

2:27 AM  
Blogger allister said...

Wow, what a great piece of writing. Its talented artists like you transience and lorena which make me wish i just that bit more artistic.

Great blog, i'll be coming back.

8:35 AM  
Blogger Prat said...

haahaaa now thats an activity i will pursue with all my free time.
please write some more?

5:52 AM  
Blogger bert moth said...

allister - I appreciate the comment and being included in great company. I think transience and lorena may be in classes of their own.

Thanks. Drop in anytime!

prat - I didn't have you pegged as the leather boot face stepping sort. The world's full of surprises.

12:08 AM  
Blogger Danny Sillada said...

Like an "I & Thou" encounter of Martin Buber; lovely poem.

10:18 AM  
Blogger bert moth said...

danny - Buber, interesting. Existence as encounter and dialogue. It works to a point, I think.

10:23 PM  

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