My Writer's Drought
Almost dried up, you nurse my skin
Like breast or sun
And leave time's imagination thin
Your heart is a web spun
For my song, the poem stagnates
Upon your love's
Rivalry of tongue.
But I have a charm too, a pain word
Cannot resist
A sea deep talisman to be heard
However long love persist
Tempting the philistines to steal
My strength and sight
The valor of my flight.
Almost tongue still, heart deaf and cold
To moon's desires
I traffic in your spectrum fool's gold
Sparkling from cinders wild fires
That burns me off like mist on a glass
Drinking my thoughts like milk
Curdled in the kitchen sink.
This river that flows out of my passion
This life of life
Like seeds in me sown, is all my possession
Save it when you turn the knife
Against the foolishness of choice
To drip your cross
Upon the page's eternity for creation.
|