Thursday, July 20, 2006

A Winter Poem

In a strange bedroom,
Sliding off the straps of her dress,
His spirit is an open novel
With a tattered bookmark
Lift it to your kiss

The position of our bodies,
Laying in contemplation,
Ah! The song of a silver morning!
- And pine trees jovial in their husks

- And a chestnut horse in New Hampshire
Sugar cubes of our sweet, desperate touches
How the brown yellow straws peer through!

- And the angle of our bodies…

I wrote this poem in the hope you’d
– stirring spices of lust –
Understand completely

You know how the snow can fall madly?
That’s how I feel sometimes
- And the moon shivering in January

As he stares out the window
And laughs gently, deep inside himself

12 Comments:

Blogger Inkblot said...

was listening to 'landslide' (dixie chicks)when I wrote my winter poem. remembered it when I read yours.
and the snow will keep falling -lap up the flaky patterns...

6:16 AM  
Blogger Prerona said...

yes, the snow falls madly.
i loved this. it was wonderful. specially the bookmark. and actually all of it ... so so so beautiful!

6:44 AM  
Blogger bismuth said...

it's freezing cold here in the office. and after reading that, i just wished i was curled up in bed, staring at that man by the window laughing deep inside himself. and i would beckon him to come back to bed.

2:05 AM  
Blogger ... said...

inkblot - Funny writing winter poems in the summer. It happens, I guess, when you're stuck inside with work.

prerona - Thank you. For a free bookmark, it has exceeded expectations mileage wise.

bismuth - That does sound so much better than work. I've no doubt he'd jump right in.

5:49 PM  
Blogger Russell CJ Duffy said...

"stirring spices of lust"
hmmm
must be a french delicacy. think i'll try it sometime!

9:11 AM  
Blogger Stormy Zephyr said...

Your writing has taken a different form, these days. The language is more simple, but more powerful as well. The honesty and conviction shows in the words. I like this poem very much.
Wonderful line this
"I wrote this poem in the hope you’d
– stirring spices of lust –
Understand completely "

Good work man!

6:55 PM  
Blogger ... said...

cj - Haha. French, yes. They can be had at The Dingo, I hear. Highly recommended!

stormy zephyr - Thank you. I haven't really noticed the language differences. It's kind of like watching yourself grow, I guess. I appreciate the insight. Thanks.

9:54 AM  
Blogger ... said...

jon - Gracias.

**silvermOOn** - Thank you for the compliment and the heads up regarding your address change. I'll be sure to make the change sooner than soon.

10:50 PM  
Blogger Yasmin Waring said...

sampling your winter poem in these hothouse days was a frothy delight.

especially liked the tattered bookmark lifted to her kiss.

12:24 AM  
Blogger Prat said...

Songs of such silver mornings echo on for a long long time..

8:06 AM  
Blogger ... said...

Scheherazade - Glad you stopped by. These 100 degree days make me ache for winter.

prat - Forever.

10:58 PM  
Blogger iamcloying! said...

i do know how snow can fall madly. ...why do not the tumbling leaves disturb with equal vigor?, i wonder.

...aah, perhaps my mind is titian and rotting, while the birth-on-birth of all that white makes too glaring my enormous imperfections. (oops! don't yell.) ...but it outlines your words like the carving of a snow angel: subtle, understated, yet vibrant.

11:55 AM  

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