E·ratio

 

 

Issue 9 · 2007

 

Three Poems

 

 

by Julie Waugh

 

 

 

 

with a view

 

 

shards that once were remnants of sky palaces

turn to dust as we walk this mile

exploding truths and lies are inaudible now

in their decay, but burn perpetually to light a path

useful in their perdition

 

our affectations are absolved by the resonance

the fusion of air and skin dissolving

becoming merely vestiges

transient accomplices, such are lovers

and from a dry north, a dry mouth, words disintegrate

 

light vacillates around and through us

penetrating, searching, carving initials on our bones

and time for idle journeys, we sense are over

there is a pause here, a realization with some remorse

that all striving, all the fret work has been unnecessary

 

 

 

 

a love poem

 

 

idle imaginings thicken softly out of reach

followed impulsively by cravings for sudden intimacies

icons luxuriating in parentheses

the shields of comfort that bestow some right of passage

 

and like a slow growing tumour, this love for you

has me tethered to an untimely life

a scourge that has often been my only consolation

proof, reverberating in a perpetual stillness

 

it can easily assume the controlling latitude of a tourist

then like a winter beach in denial it calls me home

to bask in familiar fathoms of possibilities

that never were nor will be but are

 

 

 

 

intraceptions

 

 

questions never asked fall lightly now

like the first flakes of snow that quicken

even inspired skeptics into believing

 

and I am going home or leaving one

signposts are such fickle creatures

I only know that you are not here

 

so destiny is fated to stand and watch

with her batch of newly stretched canvases

she does not supply the paint but can advise

 

at a distance, a competition of rewards wait

ill at ease in each others company

but comforted by their mutual anticipation

 

these are the pauses where circles begin

intangible realities like the gap before each breath

portals for self remembering

 

 

 

 




E · Poetry Journal