by George Hoerner
the blush of birth
is barely off the blossom
when lust and love
bark at youth’s heels
his hand on her breast
her hand on his zipper
time is now and desire
is found in dreams
of tomorrow, no later
guilt, shame, and sorrow
enter the game
the gulf between
then and now
is the view
one only looks
denies what is next
while the other just does
to what is next
Author's Note: After reading from Baudelaire's Flowers of Evil.
Posted on 08/18/2009
Copyright © 2024 George Hoerner
|Member Comments on this Poem
|Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/18/09 at 07:11 PM
|Posted by Laurie Blum on 08/19/09 at 05:15 PM
This is a great thought provoking piece. Much to mull over here. Nicely written George.
|Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/19/09 at 06:02 PM
Life and lust - two irrepressible forces that you capture so well - transmuted from a book of the past to our present - grateful.
|Posted by Jared Fladeland on 08/21/09 at 03:04 PM
I love this... It actually reminds me of a new play I had the opportunity to direct the first quasi performance of it... A man has a monologue, and this reminds me of it, even though the topics aren't the same, the language and mood evoked is similar.
|Posted by Charlie Morgan on 09/08/09 at 04:54 PM
...such a gulf between the two l's, good write. more attention to the life from a different slant...i like the soft-edge of this...
|Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/12/09 at 02:23 PM
if these odeic notions were induced of Baudelaire, what splendor of inducement, indeed, these lovely words which beg the reader to follow their lead and induce, induce to tears.