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Because Of The Rhymes

BECAUSE OF THE RHYMES

Like the Doctor says,
“Poetry, physics, same thing.”
Who’m I to argue?

What Price Love?

WHAT PRICE LOVE?

That love is cheap
That cares not to be dear
Nor ever come for free
But, risen from its sleep,
Recloaks itself in fear
Of what may be

A close-kept secret I shall tell
Long have I wished to be alone with you
Sat in a room somewhere with nothing more to do
Than gaze into your eyes
And see if what my heart tells me is true

The rose romantic love declares
A kiss may be enjoyed without regret
But not this passion for a madness deeper yet
That I have glimpsed in you
Which once seen is a thing you can’t forget

Your vibrant, bitter-smiling eyes
Your willfulness that would not be declined
Drew me against my will and now it seems I find
Not love or friendship but
My anima within your face defined

My secret is no secret now
I that would see you free yet hold you dear
Have dared, O calumny, to whisper in your ear
Our Lady of Arles
That I am he of whom you live in fear

The artist/matador holds forth
In stealth, as might some necromancing priest
A bloody host in invitation to a feast
The hacked-off ear that bears
A witness to his conquest by the beast

The poet and the prostitute
A story old enough to laugh to scorn
Sweet fiery wine of love, dark wine of death forlorn
Vincent who died insane
Gérard de Nerval found hanged in the dawn

But love is cheap
That cares not to be dear
Nor ever come for free
But, risen from its sleep,
Recloaks itself in fear
Of what may be

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