Saturday, March 06, 2021
POEM: GOD OF MANY NAMES
By Donovan Baldwin
Two small dark islands,
Peaks of silver hills afloat
Upon a moonlit sea,
Which, with each breath,
Rise and fall, faster with
The coming of the
Evening storm, the
Wind of my mouth,
Reverberation of hands,
Beating out a tempo,
Rising, heating, waters
Of her still lagoon,
Until it boils, and
Seething with pent
Expulsions bursts
Forth the trembling land
Heaving in her quake,
Til, settled again at last,
The goddess sleeps
Resting in the arms of
Her god of many names,
Whom she invoked,
With imprecations and
Obscene demands within,
The wonderful power
Of the gale which overtook her.
Peaks of silver hills afloat
Upon a moonlit sea,
Which, with each breath,
Rise and fall, faster with
The coming of the
Evening storm, the
Wind of my mouth,
Reverberation of hands,
Beating out a tempo,
Rising, heating, waters
Of her still lagoon,
Until it boils, and
Seething with pent
Expulsions bursts
Forth the trembling land
Heaving in her quake,
Til, settled again at last,
The goddess sleeps
Resting in the arms of
Her god of many names,
Whom she invoked,
With imprecations and
Obscene demands within,
The wonderful power
Of the gale which overtook her.
Poem Copyright March 2021 by Donovan Baldwin
Art: Pan and Nymph in a Landscape by Emile-Louis Foubert before 1911
Labels: donovan baldwin, making love, poem, poetry
# posted by Donovan Baldwin @ 8:05 AM 
