Sunday, February 24, 2008

In Love. Again.

In love again- and this time it just...
Fits. Like a charm. 
In deep with this one, in the most serious delight.
I drape affection like moss around its chiseled surface,
And the physique's graceful shade consumes my eyes.

I am mad for this unshackled, blithesome fanatic,
Wild in the heat of its passionate design...
Experience suggests there is no other to handle my fire,
So the more that it rejects my devoted heart,
The more I thrive on keeping up.

Sweet is the caress of shapely steel wielded over my frame,
Gentle is the brush of sun against my head.
Back into its steady arms, I gradually let conversation fly
Free as the weightless pollen grains of Spring
And ease in taking apart its perfect soul.

Enveloped in its kiss,
I am assured-
It is entirely,
Honest. No act.

There is no time left to tame the days' most faithful tears-
No backwards vision to retrace those cursed steps 
Towards generous lips and false impressions.
I am allowing myself to get carried off...
In whims of softer dreams.

Truth in mortal beauty finds these mistakes too estranged to swallow-
And with sincere dismay I cannot push another down my throat.
My arms outstretch to the ghosts of a disquieted past 
Full of such mortal misgivings...
And touch true answers to beauty 
Unveiled in the vitality shining overhead.

I am in love again
With Life, with wonder.
That tender essence incapable of disappointing,
Unheard of breaking the bravest, starry-eyed spirits...
Such a bud that will never deter in becoming,
Nor dissolve a weakened child's fancy,
But raise my heart
Into Release.

And this time
It just fits.


sarahbeth said...

ohh, i like your love poem better : ) haha, i just had to write something like that...
i like the way you write lindsey jane. there is a metaphor or simile or something to be unlocked in every single line. it's really quite refreshing to read and to try to figure out what everything means...i miss analyzing poems... : ) love you

sarahbeth said...

i liked it for that very reason : ) that it was about life, but you knew that : ) loves

Brock said...

I really like the imagery at the beginning contrasting your fraility to his "chiseledness" (my word, not yours).

You know, I wrote a bunch of poems when I lived in Rexberg. Something about that place. A lot of them are archived here (under "Critique Five"):

Brock said...

Oops that link doesn't quite do it. You still have to search for "brock".