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they break
what they can't buy
where i own it
the land
the deed
the deeds
the first meeting
a hand, gently, cupping her hip
i remember her
in ways she doesn't
in ways impossible
the flutter of her eyelashes
taken aback, then
softly
as a feather fall
drooping of her eyelids
curving of her lips
every moment from then
till mine, slipping off
her emerald slippers
as she groped her chest
soft panting
anticipating
no breath was there for fear
only for joy, and weeping for pleasure
but i was not there
i was already here
in mourning
for who could cherish a night so sweet
forever
surely i,
i tell you,
for i am ever there
in the midst of every meeting, i am absent
stolen away
by love's first embrace
in the coffin
in the death of life, to love, i slumber
for the sun of onus
debt to what tills the earth
i till it not
for i shall never be he who makes her
wait
till
later
i till the day, au revoir
to distant lands, yonder, seek my morrow
seek my yesterday
but today, i'm with her,
as if with child
as if burdened by an impossible future
by myriad questions,
chemistry, timetables, passports, important dates
we are alchemists
she and i,
abed
amidst the dread of toil and bore,
we are parched of pleasure
we seek it,
it is
no one else's
but ours
we mine it
between fear and flight
we fight time and being
we fight ourselves
we fight the womb, what is without that which is opportune,
the midst of our seeking
farming her waistlands
for diamonds, for oases, for meadows, for flowers unbloomed,
i sought her mind for love
attempted
she denied me
pressed her thumb to my lips
said every word i never dared dream
a woman'd say
and still
ever more she spoke
and i was entranced
enraptured
askance at how
my mind
my bark encrusted body
came alive
with her grace, healing the rigor mortis
of ages past
suppleness of time, unwound in length
now newly wound in electrifying sight
awoke me
alighting the sinews of my brain
with wisdom, truth, and recognition of the life before me
truly alive, and wanting of me, from marrow to end,
and all at once
by ken i learned, how
barren
the world was
without her
despite her, even,
as, i thought, surely i had known charm, before her...
surely, i had known truth, and victory, and love, before...
nay,
i knew,
naught was i in keeping of any bauble the world trifles
in one's company,
with prices aplenty,
all to conjure the mystery, majesty, misery, and deceit of value,
only
should one glean the truth,
to sup of the waters
of love and its dew
to be there
at the hip
and taste of the river
from forefathers and ancient mothers,
from maidens and warlords
from kings and queens,
they all passed down their sweat of brow
the blood of swords and season's flow
to have us know
all for us
this was done
and you all
waste it
tirelessly
merely
talking about love

while,
i
dream it
eat of it
live it
enjoy it...

why not you?
This was one of my most fervent writes in a LONG time!
It was HARD to get out, though fast to pen, and I love it all the more!

Enjoy!

DEW
I S A A C Aug 2023
kick rocks, use my pedals to find peace
pluck them petals and repeat
my routine engraved, my days are grey
my actions are too discreet
i crave the sunlight but worry of burns
i summon the rain but fear for the worst
floods, hurricanes, eternal monsoon
drought, famine, no more breaking news
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2023
~
The name on my lips
is a prophecy

An unsustainable breath of life

It sparks revolutions
both for and against

To say it is to pray it
in a word, a phrase, a life sentence

And it lies scattered on the beach

Put your ear to a seashell
and listen

Listen for the sound of terrible canyons of static

Of plastic birds
decomposing trees

Things we lost in the fire

Listen for the starvation tapes

For the voice of people who eat darkness
and make big fires out every little syllable

Listen for the work of reformatting spiders
spinning social webs to burden and ensnare
naïve reckless hearts

Listen for the heartless aftermath
and the building blocks of sheer madness

Listen for the sound of weeping
at the memory of peace

~
Francie Lynch Apr 2021
Take your Seven Deadly Sins,
And butcher them with punctuation.

Capitalize on floods, famines and fires.

Express sickness, war and homelessness.

Parse politics.

Syllabicate and spell out for all to read
The horror of homelessness and apathy.

There.
Nothing's too real we can't fictionalize... marginalize,
Again, and again, and again.
M Solav Jan 2021
You deserve no pity for it was done in earnest;
Declaring innocence’s a consolation at best;
Like us all through mortality you were put to the test;
Carelessness’ a testimony upon which you now may rest.

Against famine you took the lead by unsheathing the sword,
Spilling blood amidst the pleads without believing the word.
Our tribunal for this affair will have your future sealed;
The trial may not seem fair, but so never were your deeds.
Written in July 2019.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
www.msolav.com

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
William Marr Sep 2020
bloated by famine in Ethiopia
the stomach must now digest
a TV commercial
of delicious cat food
cholesterol free
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2020
Harvest be gone
Welcome to starvation
Ruins of Babylon
Maypole rivets for fangs
Parse the tricky argot, Mr. Bugbear
You speak such pretty thangs
Adagio for strings
Cry me a mare
Thundering rockets of pain
Life is a factory of scares
BLT's continued challenge- to write a poem using the Merriam- Webster word(s) of the day, parse and argot. Two for one special!
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