 |
| Passionate Lovers' Dance |
I'm in awe of Pythia—
an angry storm of raging fury.
At night, she smokes roll-ups
floating on the crest of a glass horizon;
a sweet mist rises from her cigarette—
it is the mist of her early sunrise.
One by one, I lift her seven veils
to find all my miscreant peccadilloes
dwelling inside her tarnished mind.
Pythia is now mine, mine all mine.
Insanity grips us both and for such
delinquent acts, those who guard
her struggling purity, have cast us
beyond the walls and city gates.
In a smoked-filled salty cave, I lay
crimson flowers on her breasts;
the decrepit judge is incandescent—
for many years he has thirsted for her
night of honour.
A surging hunger for this child of
untethered frenzy scorches me.
We are both made of clay and sin—
two misfits sheltering in the same bell jar.
She yields to me in the swan song
of her white morning and I feast for
days in the squalid darkness of her mind
plundering her chaos of youth.
My Pythia, a priestess of unsated lusts
succumbs to all my unhampered heresies
and all the oaths of her dwindling modesty
hide in her blue and white lace.
A very dynamic poem with powerful metaphorical words such as "an angry storm of raging fury", "The decrepit judge is incandescent" "surging hunger" "untethered frenzy scorches me" , Unhampered heresies, whereby there is a prevalent alliteration of "r"s which convey an angry tone as Pythia uttered her prophesies. Wonderful imagery of the "smoked-filled salty cave" where the poet's Pythia succumbs to his heresies! A magical poetic writing!
ReplyDelete