Three poems

[vaneramos]

A shot of the Y2K fireworks in Toronto, which I observed with my daughters from a condo near King and Bathurst

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(1)

A whole spectrum fancied;
pallid glare reveals a monochrome
night palette of hormones.
And what a moon
that sucks such heavy
course of blood and leaves
the chest can't hold this cavernous dire waning.
Enough it seems to fire new life
a multitude of variations on platelets.
Until all the crust turns up
a new explosion of theories and crucifixions.
No name to follow after all:
it's just a wordless feeling.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kind of

It was the kind so full and fierce all you could do
    was open gasping but he filled your gape
    and tongued your soul.
The kind so lusty it broke your indecision
    so strong it uplifted the poor
    so wholesome it healed the broken-hearted.
The kind that rearranges
    continents.
So light it shattered sky off cities
    turning night so bright you saw the sun
    and day so dark you saw the stars.
It was the kind so rich
    you would kill to have it all to yourself
    or kill yourself to have it all again.

~~~~~~~~~~

(3)

In such a warring world as this
veiled with fire, torn with hate
could I be so old-fashioned
as to crave an elegant path
where evening light falls
beside the lake
where we might hold hands
and I could turn my smile
content
entrusted to your kindness.

~~~~~~~~~~


The second and third poems were written in a leatherbound diary balunbustingbea gave me for my birthday, the latter on March 27. "Kind of" was written on a crowded subway on April 4, and is dedicated to Torvald. The first poem is based on a passage from yesterday's morning pages. I'm including these in an extra post because I have too many ideas to write about the next few days.