deepundergroundpoetry.com
music for spanish horns & hammers
if I were a minstrel, I’d dress in black & compose lyrics
for desolate lovers:
break down the walls that keep out the daylight & the
night’s imperceptible beauty
break the iron ribbons that lock you in torment’s embrace
break this heart that never loved
if I’m not being sad, I’m being sexually explicit: in an obscure
fantasy, I kiss with my mouth open, I drive her like a stolen car.
I paint portraits in charcoal & cosmetics of the women who
told me ‘I know what you want, but I don’t have it. not for you.’
if I drift a little further, I get to the other side of romance, where
the woman takes me, coarse derelict soldier, too tired to sleep,
much too hungry for her eyes, & mouth. if I were just & noble, I
would tell her, don’t let your heart hurt; don’t love too much.
instead I surround her with my arms that haven’t held so much
of beauty, of the passion that a woman gives without crushing
the storms of a man. when I’m depleted of the agony that
begets my masque of scars, on her pillow, there I sleep.
if I were a poet, I would say this to you –
don’t be the beautiful one;
let him be beautiful…
(Art: Ferdinando Scianna)
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