Anyone who has ever yearn for or felt the exhilarating pleasure and pain of love, this ones for you.
Harbinger of Dawn
An Ode to the hearts afflicted with
"I love you"
by Jacques Fleury
[From my book: Sparks in the Dark: A Lighter Shade of Blue, A Poetic Memoir]
I come AWAKE to the buxom barking
Of wolves agitating the summer air!
I dart out of my hut to find
There is nothing there!
I dreamt of the moonlight sonata that
Dances out of your lips like a ballerina
When you speak to me in untainted Unmitigated maladjusted tongues
Beckoning forth my sanctity
Teasing my frailty
Mocking my infirmity
My passion for your attention,
As my discarded desire arch like an
Anxious machete whenever you
Come near me blinding me
So that you have to tell me
What else is around me
Your topography a staccato
Drumming stoic in the wind
I strain trying NOT to hear
The bitter beat of your apathy
Which penetrates and permeates me
Like a thousand seething needles in
Synchronicity!
Acupuncture for the heart's CALAMITY!
Oh, God, Oh, glory!
What evil brought me to this TRAVESTY?!
I tread a trail of tears everyday!
I stare into the searing summer
As I pray!
Waiting to hear you HOLLER my name
Like an echo from far far away
Trying in haste to eschew
My nagging taste
My nagging admiration for mesmerizing
Masterful concertos that pours
Oh so gallantly from your honeyed lips
Emerging as the armchair philosopher
Of the human heart,
Your quintessence liked to a Quasar from
A distant Odyssey
whose light burns so BRIGHTLY
That the luminosity
Of this galactic body infiltrates
The shadows of the cosmos
Emerging memorably and clearly
To those with the ability of receptivity
And though these shadows have offended
All have NOT been mended!
And now as I lay here nursing
My misery my reality,
Realizing that you are just a
FANTASTIC fantasy trying desperately to
Baste my emotional susceptibility,
Reaching for you is like
Grasping the air!
An exercise in futility.
Please lover, turn over, can't you see
I'm in despair?
And so you MUST try to be fair
And COME OUT!
Like the sun, in the morning glare.
One feels the passion; one feels the yearning through some remarkable images and feelings of desire in this remarkable poem. The passion of love is not as easy as it may seem. Well done.
Zara’s Bois:
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