 | Some music reminds me
of your full-bodied loving ...
my mind on your rounded
softness, sacred your
private places,
profound pleasures
taken in Aqua Di Gio solitude.
Poets need to be intimate
with sounds.
Recite, read what you're
feeling, & if it's real like
eternal spring,
like those voices in my library,
those that have gone on
before us like T.S. Eliot
from the rose garden, voices
still penetrating present time,
with words that tremble
in the light of day,
shaking the world,
moving the day forward
with spoken syncopations,
zig-zaging interpretations
of vocalese.
I dream my dreams
of loving you ...
an old fool, jaded romantic
grasping the world
in all you mean to me;
which is more than
you'd dare imagine
in this moment of time ~
here today, tonight in only
the time taken to write
& nail this poem to your soul *
from "Le Place"
Monday 11/4/02
©FXH/DTurner
submitted
by TURNER |  |
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