The Libra poems

Libra – ’74 Your voice, perhaps the only one I hear. Yes, the one I know I hear. Your touch, never foreign, like my own only real. Your love, though you can’t abstract it races frantic symmetry, circles in tireless haste, sheepdogs the shattering bits of my world from drifting into lost - as the trees once ruled the earth you are my only profession. In the woods I did not love you – now I know why and I love you in the woods. Perhaps the flavor melted in the warm summer drizzle. Popsicles are like that and one-night stands, but this is not a love letter and any fool can get out of the rain. Once, the battle only raged until you saw how small you were and did not care who won the war. She was perfect some loved her ass, others her tits, her legs, she spoke like an angel and knew when to tease. When the pedestal collapsed she could not stand up. Each day the Pope awakens knows he is the Pope, Kings and Knights, Presidents, Lords of who they are. I awake your lover, see you and then myself. At first they knew her as mine then by name and one by one as person. Seeing what they could not comprehend, a meaning unlike their life, yet nothing to be jealous of, now they know me as your lover, you as ‘perhaps the best’. They raced together through many days both knowing what they wanted and the need. When they finally had moved in and the neighbors dubbed them night they could not speak to each other, only one had won the war. When you had your tonsils out you panicked, when your dress was wrong you’d panic, when your mother died you panicked, when we first made love You panicked, but now you only fear yourself. I will walk the rest of my life into a driving terminal wind, the wisp and gale of your being whizzing through my hair, numbing an already lifeless carcass, demanding pristine the memory of the day before you left. When she had touched all that I knew I wrote her a poem, something new to touch.This is a collection of a dozen short poems that have nothing in common other than that they are all about the same Lbra. published as a collection in Jan. issue of 'Spinnings' magazine Written December 16th, 2001 © on Jan 10 2002 09:20 AM PST   0 • 8