Anderson Ballesteros as Alexis


POETRY by RONALD OLIVER



( Looking for Alexis )

MUCHACHO HERMOSO

I am looking for a beautiful boy
a world away -
a commodity
in a community of carelessness
betrayed by hope
- an "error"
made by bodies,
but not by God -
a beacon
broadcasting:
my heart is your history.

I am looking for a beautiful boy
who will believe in and need me.


De MEDELLÍN

From the Capital of Flowers
bursts a blossom
of delicate lead,
that soars from shadow to sunshine
and back again
- persevering -
its fragrance as sweet as fresh blood
roiling in your heart.

From the City of Eternal Spring
blooms a beauty
veiled with tears
that flutter like flames
across the valley of time.
An absolute beauty
that proclaims:
I WILL BE -
belong
be held
be loved!

From the Capital of Cocaine
and City of Eternal Murder
jets a nectar
so intoxicating
that your heart will be
heavy with happiness
and despair
and determination
- wanting more,
needing more -
delirious with desire.


ESL

I will be bilingual.

I will learn
the language of your life.

I will memorize
the alphabet of your body.

Letter by letter
you will be the only words
that I need to know.

I will master
your grammar, dialect, and slang -
all of your irregular verbs.

I will celebrate
every syllable of your erotic idiom
until
- phonetically freed -
I fall to my knees
speaking in tongues
predating speech.



( Finding Anderson )

"Claro"

Languages / words -
incomprehensible !

I'd rather be mute
and then my dancing hands
would conduct a concerto
of literal language.

I'd rather be blind
and then communication
would be a tactile reverie
beyond deception.

I'd rather be deaf
and then silence
would reverberate with the sublime word
that created speech

and I would recall
what a miracle
is the inadequate, but enthralling
vocabulary of being.

I'd rather be honest
and acknowledge
that when my muse said "claro"
I did not understand,

but now I know.


I AM

I am twilight -
a luminous afterthought
that questions the need for night
distorting all perspective.

I am sorrow -
an abandoned body
keening for a heartbeat
to renew the rhythm of my life.

I am chagrin -
a naked entreaty
for love
or a credible facsimile of fidelity.

I am shame -
a disobedient secret
shimmering in unpredictable
rip tides of regret.

I am punishment and pain
and fierce desire
- I am faltering fire -
the genetic fear of night.

I am twilight
for the rest of your life.



( Loving Both of Him )

LIFTED

Unencumbered
I sulked in shadows
to preserve my youth.

But now
beneath the weight of your love
I am lifted
into God's good glare
and bless each line
deepened by delight.


GENETIC APTITUDE

If a broken bone heals
stronger than before,
is that true too
of a broken heart?

Is each remedy
a testament to tenacity

or just genetic aptitude
steeling for the next assault

stupidly beating us onward
until we buckle
beneath the multitude of scars?


BROKEN BOYS

The abandoned and broken boy
whose lasting lament
has clouded the clarity
of this life
is weary beyond bearing -

the obsession to find you,
his disruptive deceit:

Observe the unbreakable beauty
of this battered boy
who is you
as you were
and help him be
who you could have been -
and indeed never were not.

The longing between your legs
was always in your heart,
as is his.
Heal him,
and my shadow will evaporate
in the light of the love
that illuminates your lives.


MERCIFUL UNIVERSE

I knew I could love you
the first time that I saw
your exquisite face.

I knew I should love you
when you wrote to me,
"my sweetie cocksucker,
do not believe I think bad thinks
about you why you be gay."

I knew I would love you
when you promised to buy me
"a long car with a pilot."

I knew I did love you
the time that you disappeared
and I trembled with fear
- when,
for the first time in my life,
I knew I could sacrifice it
for that of another -
when a single sharp word
from your impossible lips
punctured my heart
( though you scrambled to mend it
- better than before ).

I love you
and,
merciful universe after all,
you love me too.

That life could be this kind
- good God, who knew?


RECIPROCAL BLOOD

When did my phone calls
stop being an adventure
in discovery -
a party
just to hear from me?

When did I become
a grate in the hearth
of your home -
aflame or chill
depending on how you feel?

When did you assume
that, like a brother
or a mother,
you could take me for granted -
reciprocal blood?

When did I become
so important
that counting on me
would never be a question -
simply innocent expectation?

No matter when.
I am increased
and at peace.

Yet blazing with so much love for you
that I promise to take you for granted too!


Next Page


View my guestbook


"Shepherds and Shamans" ( Varietal Poetry )
HERE

I am honored that "AA" has been selected by Peter Howard
as a Poetry Best-of-the-Web
HOT SITE
and to be a featured link on
Starlite Poetry , PoetryBox , Poetry.net
Panic! and PgsforPoets .

© 2007 Ronald Oliver