A chance encounter

What fortuity brought us together
under the lighthouse
erect phallus
throwing beacons of light
to straying ships
It is said that stars are potent
that the distant planets have
an influence
It was Mars that brought me to you
True. A little brass tablet on the beach
extolling the many features of the star
A hand rose from the red soil
and steered us
pawns
cattle
ever so slowly
towards our destiny
un-separate
The howling gale coursed
from the frozen shores of the antarctic
fine dust rose like a fragrance
and waves left their footprints on sand
And you sang, my nightingale
through little white earphones
Angels descended
to dance on the rim of my coffee cup
Neruda travelled through the pages
to read his words to us
(and in your voice became you)
And so did Eliot
and Bukowski
Poets milled the room to please you
stealing verses from one another
and failing in their feeble effort
to describe you
to capture in words that which cannot be
Time vanished
Objects disappeared
Everything ceased
There was you
and me
as one.

Betrayal, this is not// Poetry, perhaps

I am no Judas

Nor am I treachorous Brutus

I do not seek you for an enemy

And not because you are my friend

I have my nemesis in me

rusty armoured and pale blue cloaked

and have no need for another

I am involved in a daily deathly struggle

with life and nothingness

I court love and pain and death

And weep for Keats and Eliot

I care not for your delusions,

your amorous aspirations

Really, I care one whit

As much as you'd like to believe

I am not the one between

you and your happiness

I stand between me and mine