don’t tell me “I love you” ~by Roxanne, for Cyrano~

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that’s a verse I’ve heard many too times before,
that’s a curse of low majesty, a quatrain too plain,
if that’s your best sally, retreat, say no more,
too simp verses, or ungolden silences, agents of dissatisfying pain

I need the best of your taste
the finest visions that you eyelids occlude,
make haste for my mouth grows exceedingly
impatient for the other senses to do their tandem wooing

slap only my face with the creature comforts others savor,
words of diamonds and pink pearls mined from your breast,
the bejeweled words that will decorate my evergreen,
that never dies, lest, unless and until,
you want my mortal affection suppressed

give me your linguistic promiscuity, wake me from the stupor
of ordinary, arouse me with thy tongue coiling, a bee sting delivery,
a wet poem that makes all my orifices!|offices weep, your mouth,
my souls recouper,
your wizardry bewitching,
answer my inquiry with unbounded festivity

then and after all, the plain simplicity of an “I love you,”
will be edged with sublimity, my mercies, your mercies
our jointed, sharp pointy, introverting, interlocking,
our futures becoming
our pasts

11:07am
19-9-30

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Oh Cyrano, dear Cyrano
Monsieur, de Bergerac
Your nose was big, yes really big
Immense, “la tabernac”

You stuck it in, a love affair
And wrote, Roxanne some prose
She fell for it, to the extent
That then, she Christian chose

All those years, you pined for her
And wrote Christian, some more
But in the end, it wasn’t him
But the letters, she’d adore

So you were left, without her love
As if, it was to be
And it’s your prose, which did you in
How stupid, could you be

Before Roxanne, realized you lied
A log, did hit your head
You sadly came, to your demise
And your love, remained unsaid

And so, the moral of your story
Now, comes sadly to its close
Remember to be careful
Where you stick, your big fat nose
BOEMS BY JA 74