Monday, April 6, 2015

An obscure view of heart's end

























A poem about joy
Expressed not to the youth
What is that is just imagery?
Till the obscure finds eloquence

An array of sunsets
Enshrouded in a drop of dew
What is that is just solitude?
Till the view from broken window

A song about letters
Written not to be sent
What is that is just love?
Till the heart knows unrequited

A book about characters
Unfolds not the last page
What is that is just story?
Till the end begins paroxysm


Monday, January 26, 2015

Mellow of Pont-Neuf














Pandemonium around
     and, exchange of glance
Three months
     since, my fateful utterance
Emphatic beginnings
     the smile, slight reluctance

     You
Visited the same cafe
     Where I, trifled with sunset
Maybe a serendipity?
     But, You
Had a practiced beauty

Dangers foretold
     even then, I tread the narrow
Lucid evenings
    where, sun melted in her glow
Light's colors 
     as if, unhinged from my shadow

        I
Saw Eiffel covered in rainbow
       And faith within Notre-Dame   
Delusion's play?
       But, I
Never wore now grey

Caustic impressions
       the evening, of last week's 19th
Memory impedes
       though sure, doubted her tears not once
Troubles unbound
       lost her work, soon her home in Montrouge

       You
Who walked in grace
       Now languished in strain
Certain maneuverings
       But, you
Then lacked no affirmation

Moment's note
       and I, had called a friend who owed
Indebted closure
       for I, helped him before with a loan
Gleaming eyes
      unaware, she told me of her new offer

       I
Conjured of a different ending
      Aloof from destiny's plundering
Unbound dreams
      But, I
Walked to her home with a ring

Heartbeats hurried
      as I, stepped near her window
Fading light
      of her's, in a man's embrace
Piffling raindrop
     unhinged, from window to no trace
        
      I
Dropped the ring 
     Sparkle of diamond
Or trick of night
     But, I
Had a smile for tragic

Three days
    then, the end of summer
Poetry! Careful
    for love, has just got over
Lonesome bridge
    of now, wistful Seine river

    You
Slithered pass me
    In little violets
Or just blue
   But, You!
For sure and true

Familiar fragrance
       musk with a hint of lilac
Stifled beats
       song of dove's cry
City lights
       and mellow of Pont-Neuf