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Monday, November 26, 2007

Imbibing fatalistic potions

Again I dip my toe in the murky waters of my past to try to makes sense of an old conceit. I have no idea what specifically inspired this piece, and as with many of my bygone poems it feels like it belongs to a completely different author.

I think it was a meditation on the appeal of self-destructive substances of varying kinds. Don't worry, I never had any intention of prematurely meeting my end. The verse is purely metaphorical. I liked to dabble in darker material back then, but I was young.

Note: The image at left is a detail taken from the painting "The Love Potion" by British artist Evelyn de Morgan. Click here to view a photo of the entire piece.

Poison
by Francis Scudellari

Yes, look how it catches the light,
its clear, round face beaming
with the glint of a smile, leering, alluring.
Watch it as it dangles, drooping down,
this droplet clinging, dancing
on the vial's lip, enticing,
entreating my palate to taste.
What sweet pleasures do you promise, dear drop,
as you stretch ever closer to your goal?
What deep slumbers will you grant me
if I let you leap,
if I shake you free
and accept your kiss, tongue on tongue?
Shall I drink this liquid contradiction?
Oh gleaming darkness, if you steal my sight
will I better see?
My deadly nourishment, if you numb this skin
will I sharply feel?
Alas, transparent deceit,
will you both paralyze and help me to fly,
fly away?
But you know I play coy, already resolved,
a match for your falsehood.
So come, take your place on this pink bed
and bubble in my blood
clasp my heart with you warm hand
and let us dance, you and I
to the sweet, sweet sounds of silence.
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