Meta Poets Banquet~

~ode to great metaphysical poets of centuries flipped~

Mr. Chapman threw the day's cloth

embroidered in tropical mirth

across the shimmering table

which

in fact

was perplexed wood

having been carved of a widow's bones

 

Mr. Donne insisted I refer to him as John

since I was kind enough to pull him from the bars of Fleet

into a 21st century banquet laid out in a Hogan of red mud

at the base of Canyon de Chelly

he tipped his hat

recited erotic interludes like the hips of America

 

George, though an Anglican priest was open to sensual thought

to comparisons between the lustrous  act of sex

and the radiant act of worship

laying out the gold rimmed china

he bent into a carving on his bed of death

and winked,

saying

"Its bark is worse than its bite, but they got it wrong and individualized it."

 

Marvell poured the tea in white ruffles

dark eyes mischievous as he caressed the skin between my hip huggers

and lace chemise

"Bold, green eyed demoness, the embodiment of coy mistress."  he winked,

and asked,  "Sugar?"

 

Sir Robert shook his head over cranberry cream and truffles

Topcliffe's acts of intimate violence against Anne a stain of betrayal

still like a lump of coal in the pit of his soul

I reached into his tortured scars from  hundreds of years ago

to pull him back to grace

while a satellite bumped against the atmosphere

 

"Thomas Traherne."  he bowed and folded into electricity

poured lotus tea infused with jasmine into my cup

a smile at the corner of his mouth

"Seductress," he said, "are we here to be seduced away from god?"

and my laugh struck an innocent chord in the chambers of his dead heart

 

I was most induced to adoration by Henry Vaughn

his dark swan a shadow on his lapel

the river Usk

in the notations

in intonations of his vibrant vocal chords

which he recited

towards the end of the meal

from the Hermetical Physics

as, riveted

I spied both jubilation

as well as disconcert  from the meta ghosts

 

Through the night I walked from chair to chair

kissed the bitter tang of conspiracy and tragedy from Chapman

swallowed fifty sermon wafers from John's uncertain lips

stole the Altar from George's pocket with glee while he, patient,

simply abided my sinner soul

Marvell was more than willing

to expunge his pastoral style

for my surreal coils around his throat

Saint Sir Robert raised his cup

to my recitation of his Marie Magdalens Funeral Teares

though he admitted

never did he think it would be embraced by a demon's child

Thomas leaned into my fingers as they unwound his collar,

"Teach me about sin."  I whispered

my fragrant bent of sacrilege against the quiver of his chest

but it was Henry took the challenge

of undying the best

unwinding and pressing me

between the lock

and the door of the chemist's key, he said

"I get you, so I get you."

and I smiled and swallowed him whole

there under the open roof of a hogan

in Canyon De Chelly

with a thousand stars in the epic sky

while a wild mustang named Pete stuck his head through the open doorway

wondering if there were any scraps left

to be had

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa. inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

excerpt from . . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

~ode to metaphysical poets of centuries flipped through an inverted hourglass~

Reviews

[dovetailer]

but it was Henry took the challenge
of undying the best
unwinding and pressing me
between the lock
and the door of the chemist's key, he said
"I get you, so I get you."

You can imagine why I love this portion more than I love the rest...
all you poems are such a maelstrom of rich imagery and mystery...

these poets have nothing on you, my dear...
but as much as we try to understand our beginning and our endings...
it's all a crap shoot...
think how boring life would be if we understood everything...
We'll all know soon enough...

Your usual fare...spellbinding...

[Jibey]

This was brilliant... You combined perception and wit, capturing the flavour of this interesting and outstanding group of poets and having so much fun with them...

I feel like giving up.. my writing is so paltry by comparison

[Wildfleour]

And the crazy thing is, I can see this happening! :)

[Ed Hart]

oh, flippant girl, with eyes that gleam
who sets old men on paths to dream
you sash and say your glamor muse
and with your tongue tip turn loose
a roll of words of playing parts
while old men draw horse filled carts

[Larry Dyson]

loved this:
while a wild mustang named Pete stuck his head through the open doorway
wondering if there were any scraps left
to be had
have to know hogans and the pasing of a spirit in one....

[Robin]

when we dream , we live , this ode is alive

[.]

~love this Selene~
~you really captured the moods---not just of Donne and Carew-
but to Crashaw and Lovelace~etc.etc..Magnificent :)

~james~

[Aven]

This was such an interesting read, I could not comprehend the vastness of your mind, but I know a masterpiece when I see it!