Monday, October 29, 2012

In Poetry

It is a little like love, I suppose
The height and depth and breadth of it
is not distinguished by whether
you are far away from me
or close 
But love loves in spite of circumstance
It is not a fickle fantasy
nor a hapless dance
but it is the matter in all matters
and such is the lure of the word
whether you are there or here
my want is stirred
not by your nearness or distance
but by an aching passion beneath my ribs
pressing against the levy
longing to break through its hold
and spill unchecked
urgently and bold
as thought is set free
to fall wheresoever it may be
in the inexplicable joy of poetry

J~



4 comments:

  1. Yes, in love with poetry. I like the flow of this as it eventually overflows its container.

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  2. Wonderful... So clear... And artist in words..

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  3. it is a little like love, isn't it? love the part about "pressing against the levy." x

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