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jeffrey-robinPoems
.... ( & , of course -- Harry ) |~| True Poetry comes alive today as the meadows melt And the naked women dance and play Amid the hydrangeas and bougainvillea Turning into layered depths of chrysanthemums And pain ! And memories of your soft alabaster moonlight Skimming across fractured feelings once thought aloud But now lost in the silence of preternatural abandonment Amid gooseberries ! /./ She makes love before 1000 tiny eyes ! The children wave their penises and razor blades Unto the starless starry sky amid the sunrise solitude Of vast city streets of depth defying words Twisting about in the wind That never shall be ours again !!! // My love ! // I remember something about you now and then Oh yes ! How I hate you for something ( I can't remember ) But hate is necessary for there to be love // The night departs and Mars marries Venus On the D-train :: The twisted oaks of youth play stickball Still ( in Brooklyn ) and alas I go Home for at last My poem's done ! And only the scent of Chrysanthemums Remain //
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
... nuances for Jane ....
.... ( & , of course -- Harry ) |~| True Poetry comes alive today as the meadows melt And the naked women dance and play Amid the hydrangeas and bougainvillea Turning into layered depths of chrysanthemums And pain ! And memories of your soft alabaster moonlight Skimming across fractured feelings once thought aloud But now lost in the silence of preternatural abandonment Amid gooseberries ! /./ She makes love before 1000 tiny eyes ! The children wave their penises and razor blades Unto the starless starry sky amid the sunrise solitude Of vast city streets of depth defying words Twisting about in the wind That never shall be ours again !!! // My love ! // I remember something about you now and then Oh yes ! How I hate you for something ( I can't remember ) But hate is necessary for there to be love // The night departs and Mars marries Venus On the D-train :: The twisted oaks of youth play stickball Still ( in Brooklyn ) and alas I go Home for at last My poem's done ! And only the scent of Chrysanthemums Remain //
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jeffrey-robin
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
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