At age 25
for Sir John Donne
Down went San Felipe.
Crimson and pale, rippling,
clinging to it's mist.
Oh, how that flagship
hurled itself starboard
into this ventricle.
San Felipe, the sight,
the sight of the loss of you,
Oh, I will never recover.
My heart was never betrothed
to any fine cloth, or gold coin.
Not any jewel or peach loin,
at age 25. I lost them all.
I swam at lengths to reach the horizon
with inherited estate as my compass.
What did I find there?
Several tongues inside my mouth.
Señor Guardián del Gran Sello,
Lord Custode del Gran Sigillo,
Lord Keeper of the Great Seal,
I have returned to England
with my mother's tongue,
full of experience,
but with the sickness of too much travel.
With itchy, rambling bones.
Now my only thoughts,
all of my dictation,
is the guardianship of squaller.
And now the privation of Anne.
This succulent dish,
resting at ease on my silver platter,
but only at a price.
I will serve you willingly, but
I will woefully,
serve up the innards of your status quo.
And gut men of your stature,
like a sheep.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tickle your toes. . .
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
in August for John Keats I didn't die unrequited. I took a wife in August. My wife was wearing silky white shoulders holding out her bon...
-
Today I was interviewed for Poets United small stone: July 13th so many things for granted, taken: two kinds of silverware.
-
The Eternal Critic The light verses dark and the smudged and softened brush strokes suggests to me it is, as always, religious propaganda of...
-
A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
-
Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
-
At age 25 for Sir John Donne Down went San Felipe. Crimson and pale, rippling, clinging to it's mist. Oh, how that flagship hurled itsel...
-
and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
-
July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
Poets United Contributor
My heart was never betrothed
ReplyDeleteto any fine cloth,
I will woefully,
serve up the innards of your status quo.
And gut men of your stature,
like a sheep.
you may be evol, but god you're good. :)))
LMAO
ReplyDelete"I will serve you willingly, but
ReplyDeleteI will woefully,
serve up the innards of your status quo.
And gut men of your stature,
like a sheep."
Again, I do not know who this is, but that bit is AMAZING and I LOVE it. Frankly I love it when anyone uses "status quo" in writing haha, but seriously, your descriptions are great!
your explanation of his life on LJ certainly enhanced my understanding of this. great one! <3
ReplyDeleteYAY! <3
ReplyDeleteAmber I posted some info on LJ about John Donne since many people don't know much about him.