vendredi 7 août 2009

drive you

for Ron

i want to drive you in my car
take you far away
from the ordinary
to the places you are happiest
the riverside and boatyard
or where the trains roll in
at a hundred and ten
and then roll out again

drive you to my bed where
we will drink our wine
in dignified silence
like we once did when
we were young and beautiful
full of passion for all the
arts d'amour, no judgment

when there was never enough
when we made love
from morning to night
when our hearts were singing like
blueberry muffins
that melted in our mouths
when we were not afraid
of what anyone thought

when love set us free
and we drove, never looking back
to the summit of mt. kailash
blind and ecstatic
all adrenaline and sweat
our arms, legs and lips
funneled into one body
like shiva and parvati

6 commentaires:

enudelman a dit…

hot poem, Laura... I need a cigarette

John Walter a dit…

Ah, man, I just loved this ¨road poem¨ for so many reasons, Laura. First of all, to see you take this drive of the spirit so exuberantly from the impossible wish into the unforgettable memory with all the fierce love your restless, gargantuan poetry is capable of; I haven´t read a poem so heartbreakingly lovely by you in this vein, ever. The imagery, from the riverside and train haunts that harkens wild nights, to the bed of the forever young erotic impulse, to the heights of cosmic tantric union, is propelled by the metaphor of the car that goes nowhere and everywhere in our dream of liberation in a dazzling fashion.

A wonderfully controlled piece, that loses the ´i´ subject in the merging of the drive to the we (use of subject and first person omniscient here so skillfully done, we hitchhike on this ride as observers and finally participants in the enactment of the magical wish) affording a reader a sense of the unity of an entire life, its habits and rituals, self-binding with another in a shared qualia rush that makes sense of why we stay together, as sacred couple, fellow pilgrims bonded by ´le voyage d´amour.´

Unafraid, celebratory, transgressive, and fulfilled in the simple pleasures of presence and desire´s quenching. This ecstatic, yet humble image captures perfectly the poem´s essential search for love in movement, selves emerging from bodies into a full throttle drive into togetherness:
¨when our hearts were singing like
like blueberry muffins
that melted in our mouths
when we were not afraid
of what anyone thought¨

A lyrical splendor of a love poem, where the will to dream surpasses the frailties of flesh and the limits of the senses.

This was a gift opened and read on a Sunday morning with café con leche.

Moineau En France a dit…

and you have made of me a most happy pilgrim this morning, dearest john. and i needed it too, as i sit on my son's couch the morning his father has died... life's journey, one drive after another, an abundance of drives. all love, with a cup of "constant comment" for comfort ~lt

Mary Stebbins Taitt a dit…

delightfully sensuous! :-D


Stirling Davenport a dit…

Memories unroll along the lovers' highway with both ecstasy and gratitude ... the real meaning of love wafts up from the paper and the smell of the muffins hits my nostrils with nature's hallucinogen. Shiva and Parvati become you.

Max Babi a dit…

Ah Laura, what a lovely poem, don't know why but I could hear the voice of Leonard Cohen throughout this wondrous verse. Great words, pithy observations and conjuring up images selectively from a forever-dynamic memory : a great recipe. A great love song.