Absence is the heart of Love a brutal
Board game for two or more
Capricious players intent on self
Delusion a power struggle not
Enlightenment or hope for the spiritual
Frisson of two strangers touching skin
Gestures an attempt at unexpected soul
Happiness is a voidable experiment not
Intended to last more than ninety nine
Joyful but repetitive days when ruinous
Keepsakes fall like autumn rain before
Love breakfasts lessen to burnt toast
Marmite with cold coffee because
No-one notices cloud formations or
Opens their eyes to truly see another
Person is not the perfect answer to every
Question but more questions that require
Rumination and lead to rheumatism and
Slavery but do not give up hope bitter
Times do not last and love is not worthless
Undressing in the dark nor a virtuous
Virus causing fever flush and accelerated
Weeping at weekends instead
Xpect expectations to be compromised
You will not be satisfied unless you are a
Zealot intent on annihilation.
The Purple Hermit 
A clever piece, Nikita, and pleasant to read aloud with the line joinings (probably has a name I don’t know). I like the way we start at the depths and move through the alphabet to some glimmering hope. Yes to “rheumatism and slavery,” a lovely phrase, and true for every kind of love I think, but we are willing slaves. I wish I could offer some intelligent commentary, and that I can’t shows how little I’ve learned about love.
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Thanks so much Steve. I’m glad you enjoyed this one. I wrote it in a mad rush in the middle of the night and found the form liberating with enjambement and no punctuation. Yes love will always remain a great mystery and like that old song ‘I’ll Never Fall in Love Again’ by Dionne Warwick people we just can’t seem to do without it no matter what.
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Haha, that’s the word 😜 , and you’re right.
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I would give you twenty dollars to listen to the voice recording of you reading these two poems. Or 30 dollars to hear you singing them. Here, I will sing this one now myself! Glad to see the “J” stanza in this one.
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Thank you! I keep meaning to put some voice recordings on this blog but never get round to it. You definitely don’t want to hear me sing! A nightingale I am not!!
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I may do it myself, maybe my first YouTube video with your permission!
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I imagine William Burroughs reading it. Or Nine Inch Nails.
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What I tried once was to make a “spiral” where you make the poem spiral out from a central word. I gave up on poetry almost 50 years ago, and only now return because of my stupid blog. Imagine, making a poem in made-up language, and translating it to English.
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That sounds interesting, never heard of a spiral poem before. Will give it a try.
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I invented it when I was a teenager. I taught it to my brother Les, who is more of a poet and artist than anybody can imagine. Unfortunately now he is a deranged methamphetamine addict.
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Sorry to hear about your brother. Very creative people sometimes have addictive personalities.
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