If given time I could traverse the lands, and gather enough shadows to fill
your ink well.
I’d watch you write the petals of flowers as they fell, then allow you to rummage through all the drawers and pigeon holes in my head.
You could roam over the pit of my mouth,
and insert your memories.
We would time travel, before my government could erase you off the blackboard.
Your thoughts, your lines forever uncoupled, wasted.
With you I wish to brood over water droplets, savoring the difference between rain and tears. Your work says none at all.
Sitting in your eye sockets I would explore the erotic pulse of poetry.
Swim in its passionate sweat, and drink its juices as we gaze at the body of woman, raw.
In ashes, and the brim of your hat you clothe her.
Your language the language of water -fluid: enough to cleanse, and potent enough to drown.
Stanzas flow from your hands like sangria, the wisdom of the vat eternal.
I found your book of promises among a million, and in the full light of day, we walk in the shade.
My eyes burn with the smell of incense and spiced street candy.
I dance among your personas.
I gather silence to begin to hear your genius. Orchids bloom in the periods of your sentences.
Neruda: sensual, rustic, exposed, and yet secret. When I finish I’ve just started, and once I’m back I’m gone once more.
If I live twice I shall still only know you far enough for once.
As to explore you, is to be talking geography.
“Ode to Pablo Neruda”
This is a poem that won “Best Piece,” and was published in The Streetcar.
It was a personal favorite of mine, which almost always means it WON’T WIN, but that was not the case. 😉 I provided this poem to encourage you to send me your poetry to be featured, or for a chance to win $100 for YOUR BEST PIECE. More info here. Submissions to Win close March 31st, 2018.
I can’t wait to read it!!