Is there anything louder
than the breathy whispers
of phantom lovers blowing
in your ear keeping you
wide awake and wired
all night wondering how
to execute a passionate
life of intimacy and naked
desire with wrists bound
to a love forgotten and long
buried in loam of fallen foliage
thick with rotted tomorrows.
Mine a weed infested heart
begging to be tended by
a gardener from another eden,
perverse and swiping through
your naked images ,though
really just another verse
to the ear candy of our song
with my tongue pulled by
your tenor finding a home
in the you nobody knows.
The sweet taste of wild
honey no one ever chose .
Sunday scholars will talk
their talk that the same sinful
cloth surrounds our intimacies
as swaddled Adam and Eve
after the snake laid down
the gauntlet of temptation
with abstinence the key
to a blissful eternity yet
the urges we share stoke
an eternal fire lighting up
a darkness neither one of us
can bear to traverse alone .
And if that be the hue
of hell, so let the ashes
fall ,as drunk on lust
we dance lassitude away.
Tony Pena was selected as 2017-2018 Poet Laureate for the city of Beacon, New York.
A new volume of poetry and flash fiction, "Blood and Beats and Rock n Roll," is available now at Amazon.
He also has a self published chapbook, "Opening night in Gehenna."
His publication credits include “Chronogram,” "Dogzplot," "Gutter Eloquence," “Hudson Valley Transmitter,” "Red Fez," "Slipstream," "Underground Voices," "Zygote in my Coffee," and others.
Colorful compositions and caterwauling with a couple of chords can be seen at:
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Nice, I really dig how the last stanza sums it all up, I dig it.
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