Author Information
VINCENT
Folder:
JOURNAL#23 midnight sun
unquestionably present
a breeze entirely of a far different nature
ruffles feathers not so long clipped
a man stands
a lone shadow
loaned to the lighted night
a marvelous package of enviable
humanity
ignorantly returned
restless now
this same package sits
hands between knees
eyes to the wind
a proud reminder of personal fortunes lost
a forgotten beauty haunts some abstract idea of
a closeness longed for
fear grows timidly in the helpless on looker
as good art
even live breathing art is a timeless draw
for the far too sensitive eye
is such image truly real
or has a myth long ago grown a wise set of lungs
in which to breath from
beautifully haunted eyes in which to peer from
and
(darest I even gasp to hope)
possibly a magnificently restored heart
so strong and pure
in which to love from
there is so much wealth in the face
vaults filled with such intelligence
and tender understanding
a servant soul succeeding despite its fallible
human confinement
with rampant emotions streaming forth
warmth and heat
flourishing upon an icy tundra
Jack London's own favorite stomping ground
so breathtaking within itself
mirrors in a sense perhaps the flirtatious
wilderness
that swells proud in the living man
so breath deep and slow now
sweetest open flight of mesmerizing male want
for a uniquely feminine woo
flutters gently along deeply curious edges of
innate attraction
a siren's lure
standing
a novice professional
quite mentally stripped
before you
but only in the back of your gorgeous thoughts
quivering in even her own surest certainty
vague
until
the deepest seat of her very own depth
parted the mist of mystery's sightless curtain
and there in that place
is where she first saw you
not the physical man par say
but what the body that houses such soul
stood for
one word
love...................
(March 14, 2000 145pm)
