You are writing my kind of poetry already. The slow buildup is sweet torture; the moment before the first touch is sublime. Thanks for reading this and responding to it.
Fractures tells a deeply sad story in a few deftly drawn lines. It is economical and eloquent. It left me feeling melancholy and kind of hollow inside. Judgement is a highly effective sermon, all in its own. Anyone who has ever sat in a pew should hear it. Together, this pair packs a mighty wallop.
It's amazing to me how much I remember students from years past. As a teacher, it's often those short one on once conversations and experiences which stick in the mind. I imagine Ramon will remember Eric for a long time, too.
Long weeks,
wary circling,
testing, trying, teasing,
tumbling slowly into this one
moment;
above
my sprawled form you hover, unseen
ready to touch, to knead,
to embrace me
as yours.
When I first read this, I smiled for the sunlight and love I hear in every line. Reading it again today, the same smile returned, as I suspect it always will. Oboes and violins, like soothing like warm light; and the garden of people metaphor is brilliant. Utterly beautiful.
These are so incredibly beautiful, tim. And you bind me felt like gentle waves of love on a sunny day. And How can I love you? How can I not? These frame a delight in another, that connection which defies explanation.
These are exquisite examples of your deep talent.
@Defiance19 It's quite possible. It's a little ambiguous...who is really persuading whom? That would be one of those literary discussions that take up a whole class period. In any case, I'm with @BlindAmbition in that there is a unison affirmative eventually.
Three portraits of despair are presented here. Each one is as devastating as the other. Number 2 was especially powerful: the death of Hope would be a cataclysmic tragedy. And to have it pass unnoticed compounds the sadness. These are very well wrought poems.