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Published by Daniel Essman
...this poem makes me hesitate...it's true though...that's why i hesitate...
...this poem makes me hesitate...it's true though...that's why i hesitate...

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Published by: Daniel Essman on Feb 11, 2011
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved


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by Daniel Essman 1
You sang to me: I hear Pan laughing, I dance tothe laughter and the pain...
I wept mad love...You were the daughter of shadows,You came to me flesh first where my daemon lived.Sexuality that deified rapeand the arrow spiked distension of martyrs.I fought your thighs apart,Your dancer's legs were dove white,were cloud white,were the red flecked sybil wings of a white ravening.So soft...so mightyYou always said yes, always please yes,always all suppliant and cunning...Your caress was intentional, your love drew blood,a light shown from infinity where your spread legs met...It was not religion, but I'm not sure...We were damned in the manner of our lovely kind,In our season of hot wet mouths and easy perversions,of thick body oils, corpulent in the summer sun...pleasures that were such pleasuresas magnify the sad arc of futurity.Arching against every passing moment, unable to love enough,We transformed the act into oracle.I was flying in a dream.Our heat burned the night through to moonset and dawn's grey,when satin sleep whisked eyelidssweated with dreams come sheening.Wind-driven sands sloped into the valley of a necropolis.Wraithes from the earth yearned for my dream body to pull me downHands of smoke, hands of delilah...The yearning hands pulled me down.I feared choking, dying, choking,I feared the invisible genie of submission to the yearning dead.I fought their lethargy, I fought to rise, I fought to breathe!And awoke to your white darkness.O'that I had had the courage to accept that dream of death's grace,of eternal black wing rapture in your naked embrace.I had never had a life, I wanted life.And the privilege of your helpless nudity was life incessant.Perhaps it were no dream...

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Carl F Maulbeck added this note
the stuff of fragmentation - "You always said yes, always please yes,always all suppliant and cunning..." - and that's a good thing, wow dan, great stuff.
Shyam Adrift added this note
how do you fit in so much in one poem..so much passion, yearning, the ceaseless love & the copulation & the series of dreams...the guilt is disturbing as is Delilah..it jars ! the fragments ah! how they hurt!!!
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