John MacPhereson Poems

1.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight?
The fire in thy eyes is dead,
...

At times, on long winter nights, I feel
Like an astronaut, orbiting the plane
Between universal beauty and planetary
Lust. I float in the bosom of forgotten
...

Your love is like an addiction,
Violent and beautiful, black tar
Burning the shimmering spoon
Midnight, a needle piercing
...

Ah beauty, thou sweet nymph of
Enticing pleasure, that has enthralled my
Blood to burn. A gypsy fire born of
Mid-night passion and bred of love.
...

Have I told you that I've missed you?
That every hour that passes is an hour
I'd rather spend in your arms? Dancing
In the rain has no meaning without
...

I lay you down in these bed of roses,
Flush with the Crimson of my soul -
The thorns of love have bleed me dry -
The edges blunted on my flesh delight
...

I sit upon a throne of silence,
Within the borders of unopened
Mouths, a kingdom built on the aching
Hours between the voiceless and the dead.
...

There is a lapse in my memory
From the time you leave till your return,
Only the dreams remain, waking dreams
That follow the course of waking love,
...

Have I warned you of the dawn?

How just before the hour strikes
My tongue will slake its thirst
...

Standing at the edge of the beach
and the border of the vast empire
of the sea, the waves crash over
me like true-blue orgasms whispering
...