Friday, February 25, 2011

Harp Strings Pop
for D.B.A.

i.
have I ever offered to clean you with my tongue
to claim you with my tongue
after you had defecated
is such a thought- is such a thing romantic

honey is there anything

that we have not tried
if not in life, in poetry

when will between your legs
to me, no longer be off limits

want to claim your limbs
like I used to in my youth
climb trees, claim trees

clinging to limbs and branches

as I climbed, sitting to rest
or to relax upon a limb
or within the crotch where limbs meet

baby what about you would I not want
what with you would I not want to do
when dark fell or with blinds closed
with clothes off - on the floor

or on hangers in the closet
until time to dress - for last caress
instead of what we have now
what we share now

yearning, longing, you resisting
withholding from who upon earth
you should be kindest to
who loves you best
whom you should love no less

how can you imagine that I'd harm
who I'd give my life to protect

why do you withhold from me
the holes designed, ordained
for me to enter

I want to lick your ass
and lick your pussy
these to delight in

I'd have no need to call you names
it is the lack of closeness
why I'd cuss you, why I'd complain

Dee and me on earth
what are we doing in this whirl

inserted in you,
earth and all the universe
would spin the other way
for a day or a week

ii.
why don't you instruct me
tell me what to do to be pretty
to be as pretty as could be

I did get to clean up
last time you dropped by
little girl you babysit, with you, remember

I got to go down, got to pick up
put in plastic bags
all the garbage dropped or thrown
in my yard and over my fence
in front where buses stop
where who wants to catch the bus waits

did you notice that I'd cleaned up
picked up litter to make the path,
the yard, fit for your visit

you'd called to say
you were on your way

why don't you tell me

when I am not pretty enough
when you want me to be prettier

why don't you tell me
how pretty you want me to be
instead of waiting 18 months
to tell me that I look older than I am
how cruel as the grave was that

do you not wish me to- want me
to measure up - do you not want me
to impress you, to win your heart

is it your wish actually
that I lose, that our affair fails
that it failed to materialize

is it your wish that I,
that we disintegrate
unravel like a sweater or scarf
though you said you do not
or did not ever want us
to come apart

you make me want to let go
and die and not hold out
and not hold on

iii.
Jesus how wise she is
with her idea of more water
I was thinking about a river, she said
about how more and more poems
by me about her come, keep emerging

it is just like our being unable to step
into the same river twice
but since and just recently
some thinking person added
the river is not the same nor are we

it is exactly this that is true
about her and me combined
we are from day to day,
from hour to hour not the same either

we begin to be able
to entertain conversation
things we could not before

erotic things and other things
to which her response was to shut off

she shuts off less now
does not shut down when
I need her running, rolling

she and I, together, climbing,
hills to go up and to go over
no time for holding back
or holding out or holding off

my God, how able she is to assist
in sustaining us

a miracle that she and I are attached still
free to express what we feel and think,
as we do, and still not sever ties
not break apart

how we'd rage without the page
being ripped, there for me to write on
whatever transpires

we do not separate, harp strings pop

music though is not ever interrupted

always something left to describe
less to describe, more to describe

shades of our love are infinitely varied
bitter bitter bitter or sweet sweet sweet

I owe her a gift for how beautiful
she was to me lately and is to me now

deeper now than our relationship
has ever been: falling asleep on the phone
in conversation, with me like we used to do
like we used to be

six months more in touch like we are
will take us where
how much deeper into each other
into life together


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2011
Written between 3:50 p.m.
on Wednesday, Feb. 16 and 1:31 a.m.
on Saturday, Feb. 19, 2011

1 Comments:

Anonymous d.a. said...

You are so very beautiful.

Monday, February 28, 2011 12:51:00 AM  

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