Love Beats Me

Love Beats Me

 

Love beats me into a universe of blue frost

The last sound is the dusk cry

of a cricket, chauffeured in the bright droppings

of a shooting star

I see the frosted consciousness of death

a shivering dog caught

in the subdued lights of an unstoppable car

He had not meant to stop and stare

I stay outside to see my hair move

in strips across the moon

I am barely a shape in the glass blown metamorphosis,

in the touch of night wind and restless dark

A black cloud clings to my brow

My head is resting on a steering wheel

of empty arms

If the mountains had not blackened

If I could find the eyeglass of God & watch

for the beacon of an understanding

I would sing myself into a wreath of flowers

I would blaze a fire of acceptance

and tend it with a soldierly precision

Instead I fold with a petal droop

into the certainty of blue frost

Paralyzed with the exhaustion

of a dulled soul

watching for the darkened waters

where fallen laurels flow.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This makes a wonderful stab at the conscious with a great rush of kaleidascope imagery guaranteed to thrill, nice piece of work here.

[W.k.kortas]

There is a boatload of wonderful imagery--"bright droppings/of a shooting star", "subdued lights of an unstoppable car", " a fire of acceptance"-- and the flow is lyrical if not downright musical. Wonderful piece of writing.

[Emily B]

where fallen laurels flow.

Each line is more exquisite than the line before. That last line is truly golden.