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Page 4
Poetry by Ronald Oliver
Re: Anderson Ballesteros
INTERCONTINENTAL LOVE
When souls commune
mere continents are
dismissed by bliss -
distance rendered meaningless.
Hearts transmitting love
know nothing of finite speed -
laughing at lax beams of light,
mocking their velocity.
But bodies, to commune,
must abide by gravity
and mortal dependence upon
physical proximity -
to feel, to stroke, to hold, to hug,
to simply stand beside
- to confirm a truth as old as blood -
that togetherness fortifies.
_
So I bow before the law that allows
our souls to be linked
by less than a breath,
but my earth-bound body longs to be touched
by an ethereal love
it knows nothing of.
As GOOD as it GETS
Just when I thought
that it couldn’t get any better
than it already was -
it didn’t.
Evidently our love has a limit
- a certified ceiling
on elevated feelings
of trust, devotion and ease
that guarantees calamitous collisions –
elliptical divisions which,
when compounded and accrued,
enumerate the emotional potential
of two who are preordained
to peek at a point
beyond which
everything is screwed.
NEVER TOGETHER
After fifty-two weeks of solitude
one would think
I could make do without you.
But I can’t
- I CAN NOT -
and faced with the fact
that we will remain apart,
you cried and finally told the truth:
you have wanted to be with me
as much as I have wanted to be with you.
Which is why
- in spite of insolence, greed and deceit -
our souls are intertwined,
although physical proximity
has been denied
by a little person with a little authority
sorely aware
that we are gifted in ways
she never will be.
One malevolent email -
and a year of blood, sweat and bile’s
been relegated to hell.
WELL
- there’s a reason
little people have little jobs . . .
While you study theater in Bogota
I’ll study immigration law,
and together
we’ll erode the rabble
with talent and imagination
as you work your way to Hollywood
and I work my way to vindication !
( Escuela Teatro NO Libre de Bogotá )
GRAVITY
The earth must circle the sun -
it is a matter
of enchantment
- every star
regardless of size
is compelled by physical law
to sculpt a bowl of devotion
into the texture of time
around which
lesser objects irresistibly roll
until they collide
and are absorbed
by the lord of their orbit
even as they explode -
which is why I'm begging you:
disenchant me
- let me go.
ADVANCED MATH
You are the most
promising problem
ever to vex my heart –
an emotional equation
so complex as to
supersede intellect
- a conundrum
so clearly captivating
that my preoccupation
with your resolution
rivals only my dedication
to another obsession
- calculating myself -
for if I can find a solution to you
perhaps it is possible
to solve me too.
BUT for YOU :
“Bereft”
would be an odd word
in my daily vocabulary.
“Hopeless”
would be limited to
pondering immortality.
“Used”
would be in reference to
antiquated automobiles.
“Acid reflux”
would be linked
primarily to Mexican meals.
“Fool”
would refer to other
age-impaired idiots who have been hustled.
But worst of all, I would still believe that my
"Heart"
is merely a muscle.
( Buckling Beneath the Multitude of Scars )
" EAT SHIT FAGGOT "
How clearly you carved
the epitaph
on the tombstone
of our friendship.
And though
not an engraving
of unparalleled eloquence
- indeed
despicably predictable -
still,
a sentiment
straight from your heart.
World-weary words
reinvigorated
by the fresh ferocity
with which they were exhumed
after breathless months
of having been buried in you.
YOU "WIN" AGAIN
With great
creative cruelty
and odious devotion,
you've bred what I thought
could never be:
reciprocal animosity.
Yes - I want now
to do to you
all
that you have done to me -
to blithely waltz
across your land-mined heart
blasting us apart
as you stupidly bleat,
“despise me /
cultivate consistency
/ predicate this
pillory of pain
while I reclaim the comforting contempt
where I have spent
a lifetime
learning to do first
that which I’ve been taught
ought to be done to me”.
EVERYWHERE !
In the stains across the curtains
and the plaster on the floor,
in the teardrop-dappled pillows
flecked with particles of gore,
in the glint of blades descending
and the flushing rush of drugs,
in the lightning flash of gunfire
and ensuing rain of blood,
in the rapture of reprisal
and annulment of the past,
in the final, rank eruption
like the acne on my ass
in the flood of sweat and semen
and yellow urine gleaming
in the sanguine shit still steaming
IN THE SCREAMING
IN THE SCREAMING
I SEE YOU - I SEE YOU - I SEE YOU !
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© 2008 Ronald Oliver
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