Christopher John Brennan
Christopher John Brennan Poems
|41.||The Pangs That Guard The Gates Of Joy||1/1/2004|
|42.||Iii. The Shadow Of Lilith||3/1/2010|
|45.||How Old Is My Heart, How Old?||3/1/2010|
|46.||I Said, This Misery Must End||1/1/2004|
|47.||I Am Driven Everywhere From A Clinging Home||3/1/2010|
|48.||I Am Shut Out Of Mine Own Heart||1/1/2004|
|49.||Fire In The Heavens||1/1/2004|
|50.||Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her||1/1/2004|
Comments about Christopher John Brennan
Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her
If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.
Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.
For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?
Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I ...
Of old, on her terrace at evening
...not here...in some long-gone kingdom
O, folded close to her breast!...
--our gaze dwelt wide on the blackness
(was it trees? or a shadowy passion
the pain of an old-world longing
that it sobb'd, that it swell'd, that it shrank?)
--the gloom of the forest