Pour a glass with those hands of yours, my love
Pour it and let things take their course, my love
The muezzin has just given the midnight call
But few men prostrate on the floors, my love
Some turn east, some west, some look to the stars
but my compass is at your doors, my love
Whatever’s poured gets a rim of froth and foams
even when the best of them pours my love
So you too will fill the glass with emptiness
half headiness and half remorse, my love
The night’s a barbed flash of long blue lightning
and the earth burns its bridges and mores, my love
Ah! interesting and insightful - I quite like the effect of emptiness and remorse here.
ReplyDeletenice to have a poet's viewpoint, thank you.
Delete