Lust and Dreams

[heslopian]

To love another being, truly adore
their presence and their mind,
not just their flesh, the oddly shaped
birthmark, and their voice, so course
and rough, forming words like
scratching posts on which to
tenderise one's ears, is a pleasure
I might never know. I know lust
like the route to the grocery store,
collecting faces like bankers do cash,
and storing them away in my sealed
silver vault, where other body parts
reside. A forearm here, a buttocks there,
with these pieces I make a gross effigy
of "love," batting my lids at an empty
blue wall, crooning endearments
to my stale pillow. Perhaps this is a
kind of madness.

I don't care so long as I can, whilst
dreaming through some lonely night,
walk across a wide expanse of grass,
and trees, and birds, feel nothing
but the soft music of nothingness,
merely these images, these glades,
presenting themselves like screensavers,
and find amidst a nest of nettles,
roses, shrubs, and other plants,
the boy I "loved" when I was fifteen,
displayed like a Thanksgiving ham.

[billy]

To love another being, truly adore
their presence and their heart, i know heart can mean courage or something other than the muscle but i think it's use here is a tad cliche.
not just their flesh, the oddly shaped
birthmark, and their voice, so course
and rough, forming words like
scratching posts on which to
tenderise one's ears, is a pleasure
I might never know. I know lust i think the 5 lines in bold are probably some of the best i've ever read.
like the route to the grocery store,
collecting faces like bankers do cash,
and storing them away in my sealed
silver vault, where other body parts
reside. A forearm here, a buttocks there,
with these pieces I make a gross effigy
of "love," batting my lids at an empty
blue wall, crooning endearments
to my stale pillow. Perhaps this is a
kind of madness. more great lines.

I don't care so long as I can, whilst
dreaming through some lonely night,
walk across a wide expanse of grass,
and trees, and birds, feel nothing
but the soft music of nothingness,
merely these images, these glades,
presenting themselves like screensavers,
and find amidst a nest of nettles,
roses, shrubs, and other plants,
the boy I "loved" when I was but fifteen, the 'but' sounds really really out of place
displayed like a Thanksgiving ham,
and I a grateful young pilgrim,
prepared to feast on the naked delights.

the last two lines for me are superfluous to the poem and that "but" drops the poem about 2 notches.

without them and the heart word the poem is all but perfect for me. something which doesn't happen too often.

thanks for a great read

[heslopian]

Thank you for the feedback and really kind words, Billy I'll make the appropriate edits in a mo. Would the second line work better if I put "mind" instead of "heart"? As for the "but," that's a pretentious flourish of mine, which I often add to sound more like William Shakespeare than Maya Angelou I've been trying to cut back on that recently.

[billy]

i think so. after all we can love someone for their mind can't we.

[heslopian]

Done. Kinda makes me wish I was straight. Then I could just put "tits."

[billy]

yeah but that would be cliché hehe