The Poetry I denied myself

Riding the volcano's edge

One summer afternoon

 in the field of our forefathers

Where George Washington once explored

We forged our way

Amongst the golden wheat

We lay extravagant

In our youth

I was sure I’d drown

inside whispers sweet

For you washed over me

so completely

I was ablaze

 

Pisceans veins can boil

 

So it was we remained

talking fingertips

hand in hand alit

Never moving too close

For fear we’d disappear in flames

 

Again you found me

Inside the boom boom of  P eins

lights flashing,

music pounding

Heat penetrating cores

Our bodies in orbit

Magnetically bound

Drawn to and fro

Supernova

ready to explode

 

And Again Later that night

Or was it dawn

As we all poured into the cab

                Eight Piled on,

Me across your lap

Your cheek, breath warm upon my ear

It’s just one kiss  I thought

Do it!  Our friends chanted

Egging loud

From the back of our too crowded cab

Was this love or war?  I wondered

Mind lapsing between taunts

My refusal was survival

I would be lost

If I dared partake your lunar fire

 

So now this poem is all that’s left

Of My moonlight ride

My Daylight swim

verse unlived.

Author's Note

Should I put (P1) next to the P eins? Would this help understand it's German? I had a friend trip up there. Instead of the name of the nightclub in Munich she had something a little more phallic jumbled in her head.

Reviews

[Tree]

Some writers don't put a lot of thought into their titles, I've been guilty of that. But your title falls right into the poem and gives a subtle beautiful prelude of what is yet to come. You have honored the lost moment. And I enjoyed this.

Diego

[DCT ponderings]

Thanks Diego. A friend of mine, ex English teacher, encouraged me to try an come up with titles that don't include words from the poem. So I have been working on creating ones that reflect the poem without giving it away.