Poetry

The 2 O’Clock Club

Blazing Star
teases the spotlight,
the woeful sun.
Brighter than 12 o’clock,
softer at 4 o’clock,
sought after midnight
night after night.
Star-gazers longing,
tense at the sight.
Neon lights on the block
can’t compete
when a body
on fire
feeds desire
lust
the feel of heat,
a look, a gaze.
To dream
of this body on earth
as it is, as it must be,
in Heaven
ablaze. A Star
risen from the rough,
a gem,
both star and diamond
carbon.
From coal, from earth,
a star among us,
one of us.
We find her
at 2 o’clock.

Fluid amber waves
through glass,
a momentary pleasure,
a grain of promise,
heat and desire,
high noon in summer,
midnight in winter
by a fire,
a full moon deceit
reflected behind regimented soldiers,
spirits.
Don’t look there.
Look there!
Enticing, seductive,
more, than you
are, than you deserve.
You know —
you refuse to know —
admit
you are not as desirable
as she
but it doesn’t matter
what you see through
goldened eyes
delights, for now
a grainy specter
in the dark night,
absent at dawn, but
alive
at 2 o’clock.

Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s