Monday, 2 November 2009

That many-splendoured thing.

Black rose, my most manly enemy, you terrify me. For you, I am condemned, I go to the gallows.
For you.

All my life, I bear your love as a cross. Your love crucifies me. Is it terror?
Or error?

A sudden gust of wind like hatred blows across. It falls evenly on the night.
And you, my black rose, my enemy.
I fade out of your sight.


Tell me, have I hurt you? Is love a wistful song no more?
How much poison in one night? How much lies in store?

You breathe my name. I am so tame.
Sport I'm not, but are you game?
Or is the joke a joke no more? Similar, but never same?

Go, my lost melody. Go into the night.
I don't think I can manage it. I am much fatigued.

(And yet the love returns, like Burton to Ms. Taylor.
I think I am no albatross, and you a crazy sailor.)

Come, black rose, I will water you and make you whole once more
How much poison in one night? How much lies in store?

There can only be a partial truth or a half-lie,
You, my eternal dream, my abstract enemy.
Then come, my diseased flower,
In abstraction must we try.

6 comments:

Baudolino said...

Come, black rose, I will water you and make you whole once more
How much poison in one night? How much lies in store?


you are becoming the poet i always dreamed of.

Post Script said...

Good abstract is so hard to come by these days. Thank you for something so intriguing.

AUROBOROS banerjee said...

each block of word here hides centuries of knowing pain/
each whisper to a tainted love, a droplet wasted in the rain/
if I have lost the blackest of my roses, in the darkest of vile night/
i will treasure each letter as if it were hope's eternal light.

i might dumb in rude horror as marble crumbles to dust/
and dream of painful delights in your poetry, if dream at all i must/
you found your quest of love, within your love's own decay/
And though your poison be brave,
this gift (with the word) i daren't crave,
for I have whored My Blackest rose to my unforgiving lust.

Elendil said...

I on the other hand don't like these, your more abstruse offerings. The simple ones are nicer.

Tangled up in blue... said...

I seem to feel this more than I think it..

cant explain what I mean..but whatever it is evokes a more primal response..

sorry for being so inarticulate..

wow!

Bhooter Raja said...

This is a nice poem.