OK - *I* named the Poem...and the ones that followed

I don't write isolated poems - they come in waves....

These three are not, I don't think, the end of this one....but Chastity could indeed be the end of it:

Velocity OR Location

Heisenberg has ruined our souls,
decry the lovers, whose hearts
are breaking at the
interval of time and motion.

Waiting the eternal wait of the
not-yet until the fractions of
pain and patience convert
to whole numbers
and they can Stop and
notice they have finally
been consumated into
the rational equations of delight.

Love is Newtonian in need,
Einsteinian in practice.

And in that Space between titans...
Heisenberg will kick you into pulp.

-----
A Death In The Forest

You are killing me
with your smile; and your eyes
that will hold me and touch me
when your arms cannot;

Your mouth that will kiss me
then leave me to wander
alone in the dark,
Bleeding pain into the grass.

We share a great passion and such
A passion you have for me...
I know it and I see it.

With your eyes and your smile
and your voice you say it.

But in the crowding woods....

beyond a day gone wrong from kindness,
So little of it was allowed expression
So precious sparing shards of it were freed...

that all my rending tears spent the night
Flooding my heart in despair,
and still could not wash you out of it.

So I am stuck here
nailed to my own desire,
left with the certainty
that you love me deeply and truly.

But not madly enough
To have thrown out reason and manners and
Brought me into your bed In the forest
and Loved me out loud.

You were happy with the whispering truth...
and I prayed to hear your shouting.

Shout for me. Shout for me louder!
I am deafened from the heartache.

---

Chastity

How odd a thing
and so rare in our shared
experience that
even the word causes us pause...

but not like the work asks you to pause...

but the Pause of knowing thay
we must but talk
must not walk
down the road in
gentle maddening darkness.

Gently maddening each other
to acts of such unreasoning
and wild magic unchaste in
small deeds as we are denied
a greater and more lasting blasphemy.

So, instead, we are chaste under the trees
and tell each other how unjust such a
construct can be to two whose only
prior experience of the condition
was to pity those in its thrall.

And Chastity bends her head to listen
as we plot her inevitable demise
and sighs for despair
over these not-children but Priests
of delight,
who nonetheless play with matches
in a dry forest of forbearance

And care not at all for the burnt
or for the dead
But only that Chastity Herself
should abandon us as lost
And seek worship instead
from a more placid and arid flock.

And we will We defy Her later
in a place of Our own choosing
and leave Her silently gazing
at Her sister Aphrodite,
who gleefully pipes us away

And into damper, more welcoming
and forgiving woods,
where Chastity herself learns
Forbearance and does not
bring Herself to touch Her hem
to the path burnt black by the heat
She has denied us this day,

but that We have lit
on the Altar of a more gentle
and loving Goddess.



-----

that's all for now.

hugs,
Alysoun