by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | LO, LU, PA, RO, SE
The Memory of Your Mouth The memory of your mouth still makes a wound Where lips now hollow once were crushed with lust. Your tongue and teeth that savaged like a hound Have left a scar-like gap and taste of rust Where feral kisses set their mark and had Their...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | RO
Rising and Setting As if the moon laced blood throughout the veins In all my smooth-skinned parts with shining dust Drawn off from her pocked seas; as if with pains She coaxed vast tides within my soul, caused lust Implacable as crater shapes to form Within my lunar...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | CO
Oval Loneliness Is it the gravity of love that you So fear, which makes you take the comet’s way, A course that you have set careening through The spaces where companionless you sway In routes of brief encounters, your life tailed By...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | LU
Beyond Calton Road: Architecture and Love The handsome streeets of Glasgow hide themselves Lest some conspiracy of tastelessness Combined with so-called progress pries and delves With jackhammers and bulldozers to mess Up...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | LO
The Sphere of Love The world of so-called love turns out to be A planet strewn with obstacles that range From seismic rifts (as in my heart) to strange, Cold vanities like boulders cunningly Concealed beneath deceptive clouds of warm Attractiveness. Its plains...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | LO, RO
Far and Near The moon seemed full forever, fixed and set There high above my loneliness the night I went in search of distant love and met You with you heart held up as in a rite, As if an Aztec priest could sacrifice His own wide chest, incise it with...
by phillipw | Sep 19, 2019 | EN
Tulips in the Night An ordinary darkness covers them. It’s just the night. And they . . . they are only Tulips. It’s not like death has dragged her hem Across them. Why not let them be lonely In their detachment from the sun? But no, I have to take...
by phillipw | Sep 18, 2019 | DA
We Never Notice Suffering o For Artie 0 We never notice suffering when we see Olympic diving. Beauty is the sole Sweep that we watch, that we think of as free, That leap more solemn than a cabriole, More graceful, too, perhaps precisely since The arc desires the...
