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Jeanpaul Ferro

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Member Since: Jul, 2012

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The Book of Mary (America)
by Jeanpaul Ferro
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Jeanpaul Ferro
•  The Risk of Absurdity
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The Book of Mary (America)

 

 

I can't remember waking up in love with you,

because I don’t remember falling asleep in love with you.

 

You and I are a million words that don’t exist yet,

startled one hour, starving for each other the next,

both of us underdeveloped in our togetherness,

cutting each other’s wrists in the kitchen sink,

blood the color Henry Miller would write it,

in a moment when we both realize there is no use lingering,

pain like God’s pain, his eyes bulging from the wars,

through the blue room you can feel it in your throat,

you tear your clothes off, hang yourself by your hands with rope,

you are the most secret thing in the world, rain on a dark child’s face,

you break me because you want all of me,

you love me because the pain is that enormous,

this is right now, tonight, yesterday, a million years in the future,

I drive in a yellow cab looking for you everywhere,

“Come,” I hear you saying; “Come,” I hear in darkness;

“People are just things,” you keep signing to me in my hand—

as though we can both just edit a lifetime full of mistakes.

 

The Book of Mary featured in Contemporary American Voices
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Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart 8/3/2012
Intense and profound, truly from the depths of the soul.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 7/25/2012
A lot of intriguing sentences. Seems to me that, like Henry Miller, only when you get to the sexual parts, is it clear enough to understand.

Ron



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