From: ariel_s@west.darkside.com (Ariel S)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Cognitus
Date: 11 Oct 92 19:21:28 GMT
Organization: The Dark Side of the Moon +1 408 245 SPAM



Remembering One
------------------


Shock of smooth, black hair.
Grey eyes, smile thinly, 
warm --
a shine like the sun
off rolling grey waves;
glasses, there somewhere -
I don't see them, now,
for the lure of those eyes...
And beneath them -- 
lips, by turns pale and passioned, 
bitten with fear, the worry
of your life.
Lean, smooth planes, 
of face.  
Pale  skin...
...glows tender, delectable
at the nape of your neck
where girls like I would seek 
to nibble, to nuzzle, to kiss from your flesh
the delicate pain, that etched 
your face, your eyes, 
your smile -- 
unleashing
the wanton, 
punished, impulsive sensuality, 
that hid
in the innocent nape 
of your neck, the softening curve
of your cheek, and in the reddened ripeness 
of that lower lip --
the warmth of hands...  of voice -- until then, 
the best heard --
rich erotic chords of joy, of tender,
young man's sexuality, the dulcet
moistening voice,                  
of another girl's 
husband.

...Uncertain hedonist:
wizard of the data bits,
man of letters --neuromancer, 
who wrapped me up in words,
in songs of love, teasing promise
of what we longed to make -- together
entwined, enfused -- "total fusion, 
for days and days" ,
swimming in our whipped cream love,
our chocodile rolls, on water bed
with stilleto heels and bits of fancy,
all innocence, all wildness--
as giggling and sighing we smiled
into blue/grey eyes, and dreamed 
aloud of this speaking, this writing, 
this love making -- creating,
together -- shared ecstasy of joy, 
of making -- of joining --
of being
as one...

Ecstasy, 
from the simple joining
of two seperate beings,
made whole 
in joy, together...



     * * *



 Virtual Memories
------------------

How many times, have I thought, 
have I spoken, have I dreamt of you
my love...
in days, in weeks, 
in months since our parting.
My heart dreams, knowing yours
as it knows itself --
your thoughts, your words, your self 
are more than *real* to me...
and yet, intangible
as fantasy.

I wonder, 
would I know your face
if we met again today...
There are drawbacks, it seems
to love
on a modem...


10/1/92







=================================

Of Fire And The Hunt
--------------------

Ghost of my lover...
turning before me, like 
rotating sculpture, 
like statue: pale monument, 
of love.

My fingers, lightly touching 
remembered flesh,
your pale tender skin -- so warm.
Eyes caress your neck -- 
that place I long to kiss.
Fingers brushing your lips, 
red-pursed, edged in pain -- 
the tightening, careful edge of your concern--
the merging, of your passion, of anxiety,
all in those thin, rose-hued lips,
well-bitten and pitted with fear.

My tears drip warm, salty wet
on finger tips --
memory unleashed, unlocked 
in those small, hard, crystals...
memory...
is all I have.

Looking back at you I weep
seeing the whole
of your brokeness, at last.
And I weep
for my blindness, 
for not understanding
your fears...
     I, the hound to your fox, 
pursuing...

And yet, like 
two wild perversities of nature
we longed to meet, to mate, met 
locked in wild, feral passion --
two trembling creatures, 
naked in the humus
and the leaves, 
wrapped in our sweat, desire...

          *

I see you standing yet...
poised in the doorway-- excited, uncertain,
then leaving -- but promising...  
And I, later to be confused,
sat waiting...

     Mania...
     Impulsiveness.
"Maybe I'll come back!"
     Mystery of lapsing into demons.
     Depression. 
Sickening click of telephone void.
"no... i can't go out.."
Why?  

I know now...why.
Look back, remember.
Reaching back,
fingers weeping wet with pain,
I did not see...
beneath your frail skin, 
beneath its whiteness, beneath toughness 
of sinnew, muscle, bone...
to the soul that beat
in the darkness
of your hell.

How I give water
now
as if to cool the burning tortures -- your torment,
affliction... the shifting fires
that seared your soul -- the hellfire 
I fed, unknowing,
like gasoline -- sparking 
heat of lust...

until you feared me...

I, the devouring, rapacious 
sexuality.  And you, 
afraid, uncertain --
weak in impotence of fear.
I, the flame -- attracting: warm;
consuming: hot.
And you, all the while
fearing the burn...
the burn of my panting breath.

How you ran from me...
the fox, the hare,
before the hound,
the bitch 
that tracked you down.

Then let you go, untouched.
Left only now 
with cool alabaster
of ghost-like memory --
tears, like fire
remembered.

How I long...
looking back,
to feel your white pelt beneath my teeth,
my tongue 
licking you clean
of fear...









10/1/92
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems