Romance, true and pure, courtly favors
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and valentines; poetry, passion, glasses filled
with dark wine - Rose red,akin to the hue of my
Utopian spectacles as I proffer my hand to yours
outstretched in our first Terpsichore waltz embarkings.
My heart skips a playful dash as we trip divine light’s
fantastic toes amid exotic melodies: Lute, celesta,
Arabian fiddle as I regale to you like a twenty first
century Shaharazad(sp?)eco-concerns of Gaia’s
Green Earth fate amid a totalitarian spiral
enmeshing our national government, how I yearn
for a world akin to Oscar Wilde’s litany in ‘The
Soul of Man Under Socialism’ or Thoreau’s ‘Walden’.
We ponder the fate of starving refugees in
third-world countries, agree that now is the
time for artists to rally forth against censorship dogma.
Passions detonate at ground zero within core fibers
of circulatory tissue...Carpe Diem, Alive – Alive!
Ushered forth from your lips two heart spans later is the
dreaded R-word: Relationship. Commitment.
Next dance, second date. Know this, dear heart, spell out
such fate at your own risk. My bare-bones track
record’s scratched and discordant…while flirting is fine
and romance divine, I’ve got issues to edit before I can
credit your works and achievements and submit them to a
release date, paid on acceptance for talent, time and
glorious effort. Suffice it to say, as I draw toward closure:
While my poet’s heart thrives on romance, strings attached
run parallel to cross-strands patterned by arachnid architects as
I strive to catch their dream-muse articulations and weave them
physical. So much in my life to resolve that’s undone…priorities
first go to battles un-won. Away with these pedestals else I fall!
(Believe me, it’s for the best of us all.) When my deeds earn
the triumph of a finished degree, then maybe I’ll join you for
coffee - we’ll see.