Howling Lamb

Enraptured

2011-01-29T16:41:00.001-08:00

Enraptured
My love is a child crying,
reluctant to leave your arms,
I leave it to you forever--
you are my chosen one.
You are my chosen one, more tempered by winds than thin trees in the south,
a hazel in August;
as a great bakery.
You have an earth heart
but your hands are from heaven.
You are red and spicy,
you are white and salty
like pickled onions,
you are a laughing piano
with every human note;
and music runs over me
from your eyelashes and your hair.
I wallow in your gold shadow,
I'm enchanted by your ears
as though I had seen them before
in underwater coral.

Overflowing

2010-12-09T16:25:00.000-08:00

Overflowing

So long as I have soul
So long will I celebrate you

Since you became my soul
I was like a dam bursting with emotion

But I could tell no one
But since you swam back up my river

I had to burst my banks
And release my generation of feelings

Ode with a lament Pablo Neruda

2010-01-10T15:35:00.000-08:00

Ode with a Lament

Oh child among the roses, oh pressure of doves,
oh jail of fish and rosebushes,
your soul is a bottle full of thirsting salt
and a bell of grapes, your skin.

Unfortunately, I’ve nothing to give you except
the nails of my fingers
or eyelashes, or pianos melted by love
or dreams that pour from my heart in torrents,
dreams covered with dust that gallop like black riders,
dreams charged full of velocities and misfortunes.

I love you only with kisses and red poppies,
with rain soaked wreaths,
my eyes full of ember-red horses and yellow dogs.

I love you only with waves on my shoulder,
amid random explosions of sulphur and waters lost in thought,
swimming against cemeteries that circulate in certain rivers,
drowned pasture flooding the sad, chalky tombstones,
swimming against the cemeteries of the submerged hearts
which run in certain rivers
with wet grass growing over the sad plaster tombs
and faded lists of unburied children.

There’s so much death, so many funereal events
in my destitute passions, my desolate kisses,
there’s water that falls in my head,
while my hair grows out,
a water like time, a black, undammed water
with a nocturnal voice, with a parrot’s
shriek in rain, with the interminable
shadow of a wet wing shielding my bones:
while I dress myself, while
incessantly I survey myself in mirrors and window panes,

I hear someone following me me, sobbing out my name
in a wounded voice putrefied by time.

You are standing over the earth,
full of teeth and lightning.
You propagate kisses and kill the ants.
You weep tears of health, from an onion, a bee,
from your burning alphabet.

You’re like a sword, blue and green
and at my touch you undulate like a river.

Come to my soul, dressed in white, with a branch
of bleeding roses and goblets of ash,
come near with an apple and a horse,
because therein lies a dark living room and a shattered candelabrum,
a few bent chairs waiting on winter,
and a dove, dead, with a number.

Pablo Neruda. Seected Poems Penguin Poetry

Sense less

2010-01-09T17:46:00.000-08:00

Senseless

Why do I not see
When my eyes are full
Of images of you?

Why do I not hear
When my heart is full
Of your words and your song?

Why do I not dance
When my soul is full
Of your rhythm and your music?

Why do I not live
When all I want to do
Is love

You?

A quiet transformation

2010-01-08T16:34:00.000-08:00

A quiet transformation

After the spirit soaring song
And soul stirring dance
Of talking to you

Arrives the unwelcome guest
Of the deathly silence
Of an abandoned heart

Even the graveyard
Is happier than I am at the moment
Because it has the company of kindred spirits

At least the wind seems to understand
As it howls outside my door
Offering to enter and commune with me

And even the rain seems to care
As it batters on my window
And offers to bathe me

But I am past caring
So I choose a memory
To give me the solace to return to my work

I know my arsenal of memories
Will be the armour
I need

To accept the unacceptable
To justify the unjustifiable
To deal with the undealable

To neologise when I haven’t the words
To say what I feel
About what has happened, is happening or will continue to happen

So I send you my email
Close the windows of my computer
And retire to bed

To practise for death.

Imbalance

2009-08-31T17:10:00.000-07:00

I thought that when you left me
That time would heal me
Of my craving for you

But, Oh God, I was so wrong!

I thought that when the moments
Of missing you became days that became weeks that became years
That I would forget you

But, Oh God, I was so wrong!

I thought that when I incinerated your letters
Ripped up your photos, cremated your memories
That I would forget you

But, Oh God, I was so wrong!

I thought that when I married a loving sensuous woman
That her kisses and caresses would
Banish you from the core of my being

But, Oh God, I was so wrong!

I thought that nurturing the miracle of my child
Would stop me missing
The cries and laughs of our unborn children

But, Oh God, I was so wrong!

The only thing I got right in my life
Was how I felt about you

Isn't it ironic?

2009-02-03T16:59:00.000-08:00

And isn't it ironic... don't you think
When you meet the girl of your dreams
But you're not the boy of hers

And isn't it ironic... don't you think
When the girl of your nightmares
Becomes the woman of your dreams

Isn't it ironic... don't you think?

Howling Lamb

Union

2008-12-22T15:33:00.000-08:00

Union

I say goodbye to sleep
Hear the rain
Gaze at you, before
Bed again!

Eyes opening, staring
At my kiss
Feeling though unthinking
Love is this?

Yet you respond, giving
Everything
Hearts beating and loving
Kissing

Mouths and hands talking
Love and moving
In our delight proving
Our loving

We say hello to night
Day is done
Oblivious to time
We are One

Serenading Lost Love

2008-12-21T17:50:00.000-08:00

Hi again Desert Demons. I just wanted to pay tribute to your insights once again on unrequited love. Your observations on the beauty of pain remind of Maud Gonne's attempts to console WB Yeats by her telling him that he should appreciate her influence on his life because the misery she has caused him has inspired his wonderful Nobel-prize winning poetry!
I would like to thank the anonymous Zena for her beautiful contradictions. I presume you are not in the queue to seduce me with your munchausens! You sound really interesting, despite your lack of sympathy. What you dismiss as "morbid wallowing in self pity poetry" could be seen from another perspective as honest poetry from the heart of a man who refuses to take refuge in lies. I would be deceiving myself if I said that the love of my life was not worth my love and admiration. I would be untrue to myself if I said that she is just one of a billion females. It would be easy to deceive others. I do it every day. It is impossible to deceive myself. Acknowledging my pain takes courage. It is not wallowing in self pity. It is being brave enough to know that I suffer and it is insightful to know why I suffer and it is prophetic enough to know that I will suffer until I draw my last breath. That's purity of love, not self pity. As you said, it's how I handle the hurt that matters. I handle it by acknowledging its eternal presence in my heart and soul. I make no apologies for not taking the usual macho attitude of there are thousands of better women out there. I met the woman who was best for me and I will never change my opinion. Burning the teeshirt will not eliminate her influence on my life. I don't want your pity, Zena or anybody's pity. I know your advice is very practical but I don't have the power to decide when the pain ends. It's not going to end. Some people meet the love of their life and stay with them for ever. Some people meet the love of their lives and stay with them for a short while. Some people never meet the love of their lives. I am in the second category, luckier than those in the third category, not as fortunate as those in the first.
I have faith in myself but I am not very pleased by "the powers that be". And loving her and respecting her decision are totally unconnected. Respecting a decision doesn't mean I agree with it. It's just that. A decision. A fait accompli. I have missed out on the most wonderful woman I have ever met and there's nothing I can do about it. I missed the boat and I will never be happy. She wasn't a tee shirt that I could burn in a smug self satisfying exorcistic narcissistic liberating bunny boiling ritual. She was the most special person in the universe and there's no getting over her. That's not self pity. That's honesty from my heart.
To Desert Demon: I have moved on but there is no overcoming the pain. C'est la vie. C'est l'amour.
My howling is not a morbid self pitying scream but my serenade for my lost love.
Thank you all, especially Zena, for your efforts to console but there is no consolation. Even though the loss of my love is not funny I really enjoyed your comments, Zena. You sound like great fun. Thanks!
Serenading Lamb

The perfect poem

2008-12-21T12:57:00.000-08:00

Ever since we separated,
Habibthi

I have tried to stay sane
By looking for
Reminders of you
In every book I read

Every beautiful girl,
Habibthi
Every unavailable woman
Every femme fatale
Was you,

Habibthi

Every strand of hair described
Every captivating smile
Every bare shoulder
Every slender body
Every full bosom
Every long limb
Every fluttering eyelash
Every doe-eyed beauty
Every seductive giggle
Every passionate caress
Every moan of pleasure
Every scream of release
Every lover intertwined

Reminded me of you,

Habibthi

But I never found
All of you,

Habibthi

In any one book
Or in any one poem

No matter how many
Books I bought
No matter how many
Poems I read

I only got tantalising glimpses
Of your unique beauty,

Habibthi

So
In frustration
I stopped reading and
I stopped searching
For the perfect poem

Because I realised,

Habibthi
That I would never
Find the perfect poem
In any book

Because the perfect poem
Was

You

Habibthi

Lamb.

Houri Homage

2008-12-18T16:21:00.000-08:00

My words to you as yours to me
to hear you
to know you are there
to reply
are like bare feet adorned with anklet bells
running to receive the other
through cobbled paths
and secret passageways

Celebration

2008-12-17T16:22:00.000-08:00

Celebration

As I lie in the dark
gazing at the ceiling
Of my hotel room
I think of the city
That never sleeps
And I wonder why
I can never sleep
In my treasured city
The city that you
Transformed to
El Dorado with
The beauty of your presence

Once again I yield
To the temptation
Of the tablet
Because I know
My memories are stronger
Than my need to rest

I lie in the silence of the room
That is empty of you
And I listen to the buzz
Of the traffic
As excited lovers
Rush to their rendezvous

I can hear the heartbeats
I can see the flush in their faces
I can hear the nervous laughter
As the girls decide
How many buttons
To leave undone

I can see the men
Caress that extra drop
Of aftershave
Just in case it makes
A difference

I can see their beaming smiles
When their favourite name
Illuminates their cell phone

I can see their walk of delight
As they saunter to their car
They are delirious with anticipation
Because they have found
The meaning of life

They don't need a church or a bible
They don't need a politician or preacher
They have the one they want
The one they want to be with
The one they laugh with
The one they dance with
The one that makes them sing
The reason to live
They don't need God
Because they are God
To each other

They give each other
Everything
They know what the other
Needs
They make their own heaven
By being together

I can see them gaze
At each other
As each acknowledges
The consideration given
To the other
By the choice of clothes
A bracelet
The wearing of
A precious gift

I can see them
Rush into each others arms
As if they had been absent
For a lifetime

I can see their eyes sparkle
As they tease each other
I can see them hold hands
I can see her head on his shoulder

And after the evening together
I can see the look in their eyes
As they prepare for the
Rapture of their union

I can hear their kisses
I can feel their caresses
I listen to the
Symphony of their bodies
As they celebrate each other

While I lie alone in the darkness
In the silence of a hotel room
Unable to celebrate you

Gut feeling

2008-12-02T17:27:00.000-08:00

Gut Feeling

I had slept on the uncomfortable folding bed
in the sitting room
while you as our guest of honour had been assigned
my room which was more suitable
for such a unique guest

I found it hard to sleep on the folding bed
not just because of the lack of space
nor the uncomfortable base
but also because of the excitement
of having you comfortable and cosy
in my bed, in my room, in my house

I wanted to be there with you
To talk to you, to chat about anything
That might interest you
Maybe even just to hold you
In my arms as you slept
As I gazed at the most precious person
I Ididn’t know I was soon to lose

forever

Howling Lamb

Prayer of autumn

2008-11-26T15:24:00.000-08:00

Prayer of autumn

Like an autumn tree
Clinging desperately
To its last golden leaf

I tried to hold you,
My love

From the wind of time

I grasped you to my heart
I gazed at you
With the craving eyes of my soul

Begging you to stay
Telling you
My garden was your home.

I ripped the veils from my heart
I allowed the burqa of my soul
To slip to the ground

And I shivered as I revealed
The nakedness of my love
For you

I laid my heart
At your feet

I raised my eyes
From the ground

But I was too late
The winter wind had stolen

The last leaf
Of your feelings
For me

And as that
Last
Lingering
Leaf
Landed
On the frozen wastes
Of our love

I cried
Because there was nothing else
To do

Without you.

I am waiting
For the spring.

I am waiting
For your leaves to blossom

On my tree.

And when
We bloom again,

My love

Your leaves
Will be sacred
And safe

With me.

Love,

Howling Lamb

No God but her

2008-11-23T15:57:00.000-08:00

No God but her

There is no God in Heaven
God is her smile
God is the touch of her hand
God is the gleam of her eyes
Her words are my Koran
God is the beauty of her dance
God is the memory of her caress
God does not dwell in the heavens above
She dwells in the chambers of my soul
Forever.
The time I spent with her is my Heaven
The day I see her again is my resurrection
She doesn't know she's divine.
She doesn't need to.
I know.

Howling Lamb

The Call

2008-11-23T15:43:00.000-08:00

The Call

Call it a kiss but when her lips met mine
She gave the kiss of life to my soul

Call it a hug but when she embraced
I held the whole world in my arms

Call it a caress but she touched me
She lit the furnace of my heart

Call it a wave but when she signalled goodbye from the back seat of her brother's car
My heart struck the iceberg of terror
As my soul drowned in my tears
As I watched her face turn away from me for the last time
And the last I saw of her
Was her Eve-long black hair
Stream merrily through the open back window
As she set off on the happiest journey of her life
To find herself
By losing me

And as I watched the ten week love of my life
Drift away from me on the ocean of her duty
Through the noise of the traffic and the wail of my tears
I heard, the laughter and squeals
Of the joyful children
We would never have."

Howling Lamb