Friday, January 04, 2008

New Poem: Landscapes


the anonymous dream: a garden
of wind-worn stone, petrified trees,
vultures circling overhead
waiting for my collapse

my lungs are liquid, veins of granite
stiffen my flesh, legs rooted in soil

isolation, loss, a scene
replayed in the mythos of night

always just out of reach, the words
I have sought seemingly since birth
dance around a fire, singing the song
I always wanted to write for her

but that was years ago and still
the dream, a one-act play repeated

I can't remember her face anymore,
wrapped in veils, hidden in poems,
the woman, an apparition I once knew

the carnal crawl of minutes erases
so much, buries me in fine grains of sand

I knew her once, tasted her,
surrendered myself
to a raging river of desire
and drowned

flesh and blood of the first kiss,
marrow of loss,
transcendent psalm

it wasn't me, I object, but
the dense forests of dream
contain my DNA, so little truth
in memory's ossuary

dream-space: knotted roots
can never be untangled
by mere words, deceptive minutes

still the need to say
what can never be said,
to see her eyes reflect
the landscape of her soul

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