Rosetti - VENUS
Venus Venicordia - Rosetti

Three Poems

by David Sutherland


Lately I go unnoticed,
dazed in the brush-fire of hashed cliches,
lost in the pyre high axioms
and moulding soliloquies as another day
ticks the hour on the face of a clock
which makes time and plans
without me.

To stand wary of some unsuspected prank
or clog whose perfunctory obstacle
streams down Escher puzzles of raindrops.
A rubric of Moebius images
have yet to take notice
that the trees do not stir,
or the second hand pause
and this infernal trick of shadows
sharpens and draws
as we slip the mask on.

Sixty Minutes

Locks and tendons and yawing gaps
creep slipshod to a wedded plunge
of sentimental bliss and empathy.
Someone feels for you,
(hung and half reels for you)
over inviolate curves,
trapped between the walls
of hip and world,
the lower strata - upper strata fantasy.

Nature could dare steal back;
so sweet a thing could flourish,
seize all hope beyond recrimination.
Someone gives for you !
the illusion grandeur takes to you,
between sixty seconds
of sixty minutes
one could fall in love.

For the hour has sparse
left its minute dangling
past the moment
past the watch on your wrist,
another takes to you
at equidistant points
between porcelain and chin
over nacre smooth teeth
and haunting eyes.

One could collapse into rain
huddled over mud-slick earth,
over flesh and loving,
over uncensurable pain
rewound to a shower
of breath and lips
that plant an old crop,
tills a new field,
sews a new way.

Cedron, Uzza, Eden

You are the apple
the whole damn garden !
The mystical fount between Sufi and soul,
the question you've asked,
go ahead, take a bite,
let its rind hard ephermeral
be heaven and hell,
let this new skin
smooth and taut over its fleshy pulp
and porridge-like matter
spill this paradise.

Compromise, barter, settle the dispute
with guile half-learned,
love's half embrace,
life's clumsy ruttings
of childish sex
is half the conjugal, half.

You are the catacomb, the succubus, the Djinn,
but go ahead, take a bite,
let its opaque meal fill your gullet,
let its fruit of apron and fig
slide down, down past
the stomach's guilt ridden lining,
down past the lie of our guessing
what's past its pit.

David's poems have seen wide distribution in journals, reviews and magazines with recent pieces appearing in Anthology, The Poet's Edge and Anthem. David is a member of The Academy Of American Poets with a collection of verse titled Between Absolutes published by Menace Publishing of Alexandria, Va. Finally, David serves as editor for a publication called Recursive Angel.


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