Reply to thread

and then some help.? Ode to Peter Benoit...needs a different poem title and a  revised introduction. If any one wishes to cut it up and patch it back together, add/subtract, go ahead...I am no poet, I appreciate reading the works of others.I only stumbled into this catagory, I put research and thought into my answers and inadvertantly thought I had stumbled upon a wrong to be righted...erroneously, not knowing people had more than one account and identity here. No good deed goes unpunished..


Pagan beauty, she enters

Choosing her phrases carefully

Light as Brahms, Bach, an Inca fugue

Balancing acts of reciprocation

To reach into this chaos moment


As a summer storm returns with heat

Convection turning into each other

Not confined by nostalgia or revenge

With peace hidden in her middle eye

Skirts swirling fully round about


Blood warm, pulpy ripe, soft bodied

To feed you this apple to its core

Surrounded by your serpents

This is fruit that you’d been waiting for

In far away eyes, something familiar


Songs from the France of my fathers

We play our own flutes Separately

And sing the bawdy songs of Piaf

on the Boulevards arm in arm together

drunken  from the new wine


And so in this sacred communion

You become the gelatinous fruit

sweetly sucked as suckled secret

whispering assurances in low tones

so the others will not hear, you say


She doesn’t have to take part in this

She believes but prefers not to pray,

to the many gods.

Olympus is hidden in our blood

We reflect it, face to face, half naked,

Yet less understood


Back
Top