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the polygamy of poetry

She gave.
And it made no difference to the stillborn sky.

She gave and he wanted more than she had to offer,
they both went their separate ways but ate lunch together
wished each other well and lived in separate hells.
After all, they were swans copulating
with tourist attractions
and then the rain fell down in white satin sheets and
old love lyrics:

"What do you want you poetic heretic
you've disarmed me, a poor-man's de Milo.

Now leave me alone. I

faced the river and the sea and still you steal the shadow and the fox
my moon and my sun,
my jewel of intention.

The portrait is done. Go away, poet,
sad-eyed mermaids
are singing your song, we're both caught in an undertow,
shipwrecked and woe begotten in little sleepy towns
like stained glass angels
and children on the run."

Editing stage: 

Comments

just like you Kailash
a beautiful thought of mine ,
en-wrapped.... ,
hope it enrapts
know all poetics mind..

loved

but I suggest you tweak the line breaks. I'm troubled by a lot of them, especially "Now leave me alone. I" The line starting "faced the river..." could probably be split about in half and it would give the poem a nicer look on the page and "settle" the pace.
And did I read this right?... "swans copulating with tourist attractions". I'm not sure I understood that one, but it sure catches the eye.
wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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in your raincoat
like wishs gathered
in the nets
your subtle song
like fire settled
these wings of
swans rising

the sky tethered

the hell of it
swept that bedlam
sheet
of dreams and haunts

the perfect works
that sweetly swift
turn days to dusk
and nights for schemes

mermaid mermaid
what have we become

(love your works Kali alwyas have
alvways will )

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