she kissed me on the lips
suddenly
her pants sighing into myne
breathless
lovers of one another we were
not
but she kissed me with lips wet
urgent
hot slippery tender smoky
tongue
red paste of rouge lip gloss about
my face.........
as if tyme was slipping by too
quickly
she disengaged from myne her scented
embrace
smiled her smudged red
smile
small teeth white as a
picket fence
within
her lovely face
so far she flew away from me
..........
..........
haar cold damp slithering
from the northern sea
snakes icy upon the night dark
land
rime frozen her ruby lips are
and dead her eyes stare from blue
lyfeless
frost is the smile she has for me now
my breath billows
stumbling from this place
of dread
go i
You been watching Titanic!
And it was Rose that drowned. :)
Ch'erie
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik (Reader)
Reviewed on May 10, 2004
One of those human truths we avoid thinking of but recognize so well when told by another.. the extremes of love. With such brevity, Graham, you crack the heights of where that kiss took you, to that unmistakable place of abandonment, when we scratch our heads and wonder if it happened at all. You are unique, to be sure. katy xox.
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Reviewed on May 6, 2004
I always love the depth and expression of your words and poetry!
Reviewed by Jane Rodway (Reader)
Reviewed on May 5, 2004
God, your descriptions are very original. i don;t know if you write stories, but I imagine they would be wonderful as well with the attention you pay to detail in the small space of a poem.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
This is my personal inspirational book of poetry. It contains many poems written for family, friends, and relevant life situations. Hopefully you will find some that will encourage and inpsire you in whatever arena you are found in your circle of l
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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And it was Rose that drowned. :)
Ch'erie