|
SLENDER SICKLE MOON (Poem For A Girl Who Gave Birth)
|
Stanley Gemmell
|
Oct 14, 2008 06:25 PDT
|
SLENDER SICKLE MOON (Poem For A Girl Who Gave Birth)
Stanley Gemmell
My sweet river
The first image
You are green as grass
For a heart
You have a cut emerald
Which bleeds song
From your look
Because you suffer
When you love
My long and lonely river
Deep and curved and rippled
Running between my fingers
You are warm beneath the sun
When it sets you reflect its loss
Because a part of you is gone
By your banks there grows
Young flowers
Who dance in wind and sound
And you will flow your waters
As you seek the morrow
My blushed and scented river
Greeting stars with upturned eyes
Glance at me, my love, for I am old
And wizened with your leaving off
Return to me my tyrants
The twin wounds of your
Tears - For I know what to do
I will set beautiful violence
Upon your forehead with a kiss
I shall never submit
Death and loss cannot know me
I am rebellion
I am life
Lovely woman your hair is long
and braided into it is sadness
for your loss
Naked, eloquent body
Out-thrust hips and angles
My heart speeds wildly
if you speak to me
How can sorrow
be so beautiful?
As long as you live
You shall be lovely
The things you say
with your eyes
are like mysteriously distant birds
circling standing stones
concentrically
or a white horse who moves
in equipoise to one's distance
so that it is never
further away nor more near
I had a dream
in which you were
an immortal spirit
attending God, an angel
There was a name
written in fire
inside your open
mouth
This name was unpronounceable
and holy
As soon as I saw it I knew it
as the prefect image of an
unborn child
In the dream
this name turned
to smoke
Thus you bear
a huge and glowing ruby
deep inside your belly
So that you flood
the countryside
and its gardens
when you rise
with summer rains
Yellow orb of sun
breaking horizon's plane
Naked joy and innocence
born of fertile loins
Lovely woman and river
Sweetly scented girl
Look upon me longer
Linger some seconds more
Bend your face to mine
Closer, then closer still
Let me see your eyes
I have news to give you
Gold coins, wings, rose
Upon your face, drums
Shaking earth, seeds,
Fragile thirsty roots to grow,
Fragrant salts, crystals
And minerals, animal cries,
Memories packed into the mud,
Richly quickened soil
Waiting for new names.
Sound your horn.
_____
_____
SEP. 22, 2008
Temple2 http://www.angelfire.com/il/surlsone
|
|
 |
|
