Tuesday 15 April 2014

#14 Daphnis

I've got some kind of viral infection that makes me dizzy and headachey, so no poem from my dry, fragile brain yesterday, but I snuck a look at some of the napowrimo prompts from the last couple of days, and was inspired by the suggestion for a wine-and-love song (Anacreontic is a particular form - I didn't have the wherewithal for a new form, so this is what you get):


It was never about wine
It makes us both sick
In different ways
Me in my chest
You in your head

It was sometimes about beer
Or whisky
But never too much
I felt you slip from my touch
Become imaginary

My hands would pass
Through each other
Over and over
And I felt the pressure
Of an empty mouth
And dissolving barriers
Between dark and light.

It had to stop being about beer
Or whisky
But sometimes the sticky fun
Of things with intricate names,
Interesting shapes
And expensive labels

And food
Lots of food.
I don't lose myself then
Can't swim in solids,
Drowning in the cave of ideals.

But I can run,
Sugar-fuelled,
In mad circles,
Singing to the moon.
"Diana! Give me your brother's
Bright arrows! Just tonight!"

But you stopped

The mouths of muses
With arrows of your own
And we, pierced,
Sank under each other's weight
A delicious, spiral swoon.

We found different ways
To be in our cups
And sometimes still,
Even alone
I sup love from the eyes
Of a trembling moon
And walk taller,
No longer stumbling.

No comments:

Post a Comment