Had another poem in me today – I think this is the real one that wanted out, so I’m posting ahead of schedule. Have a day off tomorrow, so I may check out the UNLV Poetry Event – have a show at night, so between the two I may not get a poem in otherwise. This poem is just what’s been on my mind of late: hope you enjoy.
There was no need for candlelight for the conjuring,
No incense to incite the spirit,
Just blood poured onto the page,
Thus spake Horus/Hemingway,
In hemoglobin globbingly.
You materialized like Adam’s unnamed second wife –
Inside there was a microcosm of blood vessels, mucous membrane, bile:
all beautiful despite their earthly compositions –
I saw you and loved each oozing iota of you,
I turned not away in fear,
made you not a fable but a fawned over fortune-telling.
You were the Tower triumphant and from you I tumbled, falling, seeking to be struck by your blue bolt –
not boastful but basking in your brilliance,
made more resilient in having once stood in your architecture.
This has no happy ending though for
In that magic I had prodded I misnamed you,
Called you “Lover” instead of “Sacrament,”
A mis-speaking that the whirling djinn jumped on:
you took the shape I spoke and not the one I longed for
Despite attempted metamorphosis.
It quit actuation and just made you melancholy.
So we stopped the spell that swirled around us,
Separated singularities with our stopwatch syllogisms,
Swept us under the street sweeper – so easily,
Cessation didn’t seem to be a problem,
So our incantation came to an all-too abrupt….