Archive for June 18th, 2011

Last Left Arm


18 Jun

—–

—–

I asked her if she was a gypsy because of the way she moved

and the direction she sought

She asked me whether I was a vagabond by way of dress

address, and the way I looked at her

——

We had sight and we had silence

and everything else that we could ask for

wasn’t necessary

——

A friend found a way to thin himself through drink

We visited him through the fleeting hospital hours

and every tube replaced by stern looking nurses

and the suit that fit after a couple of years

and the ceremony that was solemn and full of appreciation

—–

No one can touch you like I can, she said

Sweet as grenadine

and I agreed because I should have

and I never asked who she meant by that

—–

I never asked anything again

—–

Without Citation (pt.5)


18 Jun

—–

—–

Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving, slicing the noon
like a blue flower, without you walking
later through the fog and the cobbles,
—–
without the light you carry in your hand,
golden, which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing
like the red beginnings of a rose.
—–
In short, without your presence: without your coming
suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,
gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:
—–
since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through love I will be, you will be, we’ll be.

—–

[P.N.]

—–

Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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