I saw you in that bottle.
The more I looked
the more I drank
the more you stripped
your flimsy clothes.
Glassbottomboat,
I am the captain,
let no man see
what I must have.
Why is it then
that, when I tip
my bottle up
that you don't come
with open arms
and wine-soaked breasts,
not on the nose
but fully blessed
by being fully
saturated,
obliterated to the world
and mine to swallow
in one gulp.
Though I'm afraid
that time will tell
an altogether different tale,
While I don't mind
to drink it all
will I still find you
in green mist
or was this all
a bold deception,
meanspirited and devil's wrath,
This image might be
on the rocks.
It could be
my love's paradox.
...he was spurred by envy, Jake. It's an old story. Good for poetry. Fortunately.
Thank you Sandra, for you vote of confidence, but please give either 10 or nothing. A seven doesn't inspire me to write any new poems. Lizzie: I love the word luscious and thank you for your comments with greetings of the same name. H
Such luscious use of words... this one would be great to read aloud.
Really accross the map herbert, but I like to see that you are trying new structures and forms. You are so very talented, do not believe any who say you are not. You are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Subtlety, I love it. And wit. No worries about caput maximus. Too late already. H