Of Love and Distance (A Crown of Sonnets for Vasilis)

I.

 

Our love awoke, found the dream beautiful

Only to discover it was dreaming  

Still.  Atop cold mountains, lust was fruitful,

Nesting with phoenixes, flaming, gleaming

 

Like the dull fire feeding on glances

And getting fatter with our rushing blood.

In our new mythology lived romances

Braver than Perseus, more than a flood.

 

Even Pan trembled at our love making

And pink Aphrodite was oh so proud.

We thought we had it made, kisses had quaking

Aftershocks.  Our lust napping in a shroud.

 

But my mind wondered if dreams could become

Pegasus once my head rolled like a plum.

 

 

II.

 

Do you look out for Pluto in your Greek

Nights?  Does the sound of the Aegean bring

Back ancient memories?  A rusty shriek

From a woman realizing her ring

 

Is all that’s left from her soldier lover?

Because these things stay in the stone, sleeping

Until the glow from stars hiss and cover

The air, the light falling on rocks, kissing

 

The bones from memories, awakening

Ghosts and odes, lyrics, weeping, and dreaming

Long lost in cliffs, like priests remembering

A prophecy in goat innards, screaming

 

Red words: Hades went to an icy sphere

Never to return.  See him? Up there? Here?

 

 

III.

 

I left Morpheus a glass of prune juice,

Placed it under my bed with a request:

Bring me dreams of burning houses, a bruise

On my neck, a scratch, a bite on my chest,

 

A mark, the ones you get after a night

Of wine and cigarettes.  I want to know

What is this good love people want and fight

For.  I think I’ve dreamed of it: a warm glow?

 

But it’s not clear; perhaps a dying flame

Or candles living behind a ruddy

Window pane, like Emily wrote; the fame

Of love and lunacy, death and groggy

 

Memories as the sun drives the witches

Back into caves to dream of lost wishes. 

 

 

IV.

 

Perhaps we were the best of Victorian

Friends, in our navy Sunday suits playing

In your father’s study, reading Dorian

Poetry, our lecture like the rattling

 

Of rocks in tin boxes.  Your face beckons

The dead that sleep in the grey pantheons

In my head.  Your words read like old weapons

Used to make people fall in love, galleons

 

Sunken at the bottom of the ocean

Waiting to be remembered by science.

Your eyes I’ve seen before; I’ve heard omens

In dreams I thought I’ve dreamt before.  Silence

 

Tells me the same thing: love travels through death

Faster.  The soul will know when we trade breath.

  

 

V.

 

This monster coils between us, ancient

And new, titanic and small like a mouse,

A serpent as old as God, boiling cold

In the recesses of our empty house,

 

That warm hole were love is supposed to dwell.

We try to battle it but it resides in distance,

It hides in the Atlantic, in the cells

Dying in my brain.  I’ve lost resistance

 

And I’m afraid you have too.  We’ve laid down our

Swords and only kept the shield.  Our magic

Is but broken glowsticks and in the hour

Of our doom, our spells will be just tragic.

 

We’ve been looking in Charybdis for bliss 

When the dragon can be slain with a kiss. 

 

 

VI.

 

We met at the edge of the world, with coins

We had found right under the couch cushion;

To pay our way through the river; our groins

Not craving to connect as one; pushing

 

More blood into our necks and eyes, our heart

Became a burning bible setting fire

To our lungs, ashes from our sighs; like art

And poetry, our love rhymed with death, ire

 

Sounded like dreams of past loves.  I was afraid

When Sharon did rise from the dark waters

That smelled of violets and s**t.  A shade

Clung to the boat crying for his daughters

 

Who like us thought love outlasted Hades,

Who are still waiting under hell’s arcades. 

 

VII.

 

I crossed the ivory gates last night, running

After a scent I had imagined was

Yours: rosemary and sea salt.  A dinner

For one and a half awaited us. Raw

 

Red meat and hard cheeses bloomed on the plate

And the wine bled in place, in the fine glass

And your ghost appeared on the chair. Had fate

Taken a grudge out on me?  Tears of brass

 

Descended and you tried to brush them off

With your ectoplasmic finger.  Lovely

Butterflies escaped your chalk mouth.  A laugh

Expired in your teeth and it’s ghostly

 

Silence rang like bells at a funeral.

Our love awoke, found the dream beautiful.

 

Author's Note

First draft...I'm sure some lines need more or less syllables :S