we lived in Damascus.

much more than just a love story.

we basked in the land of Damascan sands
gold glitter glimmering from the corners of our teeth 
weeping elation from the inlets of our eyes
with sky-high promises like wedding bell bliss

this is how we fell in love
with dove-tied lies and doe-eyed hopes
fettered in ropes of diamond lace
eyes locked long into each other's face

this is how we fell in love
and on this we built our palace in the clouds
waves of frankincense to lay in
lounging lazily in the laps of each other's tongue

this is where we caught our breath
in the breast of Ishtar, in the coils of her hair
she held us there with a pale premonition
whispered in our ears like sitar string songs

this is where we caught our breath
suckling the sounds of security to mean
the absence of a threat and yet Ishtar said
she was a double-edged sword

we'd forgotten
amongst the young warm-blooded possibilities
of forever and eternity, yes, that eternity laced our lips with whims
and we slept in the deep Damascan sand

we'd forgotten
drunnk on fermented fever blossoms
languidly licking the rims of our ears
lulling our fears into bedtime stories

this is how we fell in love
Ishtar, Astarte, Inanna: these were the names we called her by
and she was love and war, she was love then war
a war we fought in those deep Damascan sands

this is how we fell in love
golden hills drenched red with tears
alabaster skin drenched in raven oil
we suffocated

we spent our last breath in the land of Damascan sand
all our gilded gold oaths now a tarnished iron pyrite
our oasis, a mirage and our Ishtar, a tomb
silent stones echoing the sighs of the dead
of those that came, loved and went.

Reviews

[Neil Mukherjee Esq.]

This peom brings resonance to the deep feelings of love and reverence, also including a mythological context to the poem. The poem works well especially with its romanticized view of love and brings a sense of eternal love as visioned by one's knowledge of our limitations on Earth.
A well structrued and emotive poem.
Well done.

[Tony Hwilka]

I thought your poem was done with a great deal of thought for imagery. A fine write. Tony

[David Lewis Paget]

Nice imagery, and a sense of how unreal all those early feelings and expectations were. But only time shakes out the tinsel, and the sands beneath are harsh and unyielding. When the storm begins, we all get sandblasted, and chafe from windburn. Perhaps that's the way it's meant to be? It's hard to live in a myth.

[Tovli]

i just loved this-- a wonderful poem, with incredibly well executed imagery and metaphor that produces an indepth story with many doors and windows. loved it and will be back to read it again. Tovli