fragment

Lost Fragment of a Renaissance Poem

I have been swan-ned by a partial muse
In earliest offerings of youth’s goodbye tendencies
I sport wild flowers only in jest
To quell the dear delusive art of my faith

That people are good and that my heart
Was made to be tender, always
No matter the worldly costs
I shall not afford elegiac sonnets

Nor write at the close of spring
I speak instead from Summer’s mound
Summer’s mound of a woman’s fertility
How she celebrates her humid hands

Against the skin of the world
How she kisses poor humanity
Even when we have barely a hope
In her thoughts and smile, new urgency thrives

And the songstress rainbows stresses near
Against the weary pilgrims of our place
And garlands wild, and feasting on eyes
So alien I’d imagine them asian-elves
Belong to an ancestry of pleasing and acceptance…

Fragment #NaPoWriMo

Duality Loves Too

If our love is stronger than love
It is not love, it is nature
For only nature would be wise
And good enough

To make such a love as us
For there’s no best season
To love, it’s the duality of time

We carry a bit of love with us
Wherever we go, it’s hardwired

And endangered in
This age of selfishness
Where individuals can easily go
Thirty or forty years without tasting it

Since to fall in love would
Mean to lose control

If our love is too weak to last
Was it love, or only time?
For time is sometimes
Wise enough to separate us

And strong enough
To do what was right in the end.