Love is the verb that caught fire
Love is a word in movement,
scratching the moon, biting the wind,
pushing me closer to me
even when I'm out of the sky
and far from time.
Love is a bold verb, full of
slickness that invents and hisses
my skin, my hair, my suns
in the corner of my bed while
I call you in,
whispering us.
Wipe the teardrops that are still
in my mirror eyes, say
those things lost in you
that are so good to hear.
Let us follow the muses
while the hours abuse desire,
and this kiss searches for you.
Love is the impulse to
life, to this delicate moment
when I want you to be more shameless,
more body and deeper.
Love is the world.
I confess without fear
that pleasure is poetry,
that our now is fearless
as it tears the living room, the bedroom,
the sheets when we are
alone, so beautifully alone.
Love is what hurts me so much
to feel again and it
wraps around me like letters,
words and prayers.
Love is the trap you weave
like a cool and happy spider, saying
with your hands what your mouth
doesn't.
Let us follow the muses.
Love is the blouse on the floor,
the hands without limits, the indecent
metamorphosis of the soul.
It is the pure despair of giving and receiving.
Love is the verb that caught fire.
Love is the quiet fury
living in me again.
Karla Bardanza
My blogs - Visit me
http://asmoonsewsthesatinstars.blogspot.com
http://ourpoetrycafe.blogspot.com - my blog with my friend Cinda Berard.
http://poesiaispoetry.blogspot.com - my bilingual blog
Love is the quiet fury living in me again... what a poem my friend... hats off...
An amazingly sensuous love poem -- love is the verb indeed as you so neatly describe and embroider here Karla. Really enjoyed this fine piece.
nice poem
An excellent write..I share the general opinion on this piece Karla
Dream Weaver speaks truth: Truly excellent! Love plays a very big part, and it pays to give it props.
excellent piece Karla:)
Dear Karla, // First of all, your title is great. It got my attention. It is itself a lovely line of poetry. // Of course there is an inexhaustible list of things that could be said, truly, about love; and many of them would be contrary to other things, also true. Here, you have covered a good deal of the best. // Enjoy it while you can, you and all. We always say we know that things end, but we should really act on that. If love ends because you die, then there is no real problem for you. But as in my case, if love ends while you are still living, it can be a most torturing reality. Very mixed--with memories being at once a treasure and a torment. It happens to far too many people, more than many think. I have an implant, but nearly all of my passion is gone. Yet I still yearn to have a loving relationship. But whenever a prospect finds out how ill I am, she backs away, and I am lonely again. I have a few who don't want commitment, but I do. I am with them only for the hugs and kisses and the little time we may spend sipping coffee together in the morning--so that I can play-act in my heart, that I have a real love. // So far this is the worst part of my advanced metastatic prostate cancer. The pain will get a lot worse, I know, and it will become the unavoidable focus of what is worst. Yet in my heart, the loss of love will always be the worst. --Michael