THE GENTLEMAN OF SHALLOT

Come Spring...

I paint my little room
all yellow

fill it with
daffodils & jonquils

drag in a giant
mirror

(left in the back yard)      

so large

it takes up
all the wall

giving the illusion
of another room

as if my room
were now not so

small.

Sometime the trompe l'œil,
fools even me

& I walk into
the imaginary room.

'Ouch! '
my reflection shouts!

Come Spring...
...came you!

(totally unexpected)      

& my playing with
perspective

hath you enthralled.

I'd catch you
catching your
reflection observing you

observing
the mirror couple

as they
mimicked us

watching our every
move

you thought it so
sensual

or could pretend to be
at a small ****

when it was only
us

again

&

again.

Bodies of flesh & blood
bodies of glass.

You breathe
upon the mirror

tracing our names
with a fingertip

fragile words
made of breath

'...this love...will last...! '

*

When we break
up

the mirror
stayed intact

except for a jagged
lightning crack

& now it was I
who watched

like a gentleman of Shallot

the couple
in the mirror

(the ghosts of
memory)      

making love

bodies of flesh
& blood

bodies

of

glass.

I met her when her hair was black,
Mine was covered with a cap,
As I grew,
We knew each other,
My hair has been many colors,
And now,
While she approaches night,
Still pulled back,
Her hair is now white,
The thought of her loss,
Makes me afraid,
My eyes wet,
and premature gray
BLCostello©2023

Time waster,
Wine taster.
Covert lover,
Losing cover.
Rude creator,
Crude spectator.
Secret liar,
Limping sigher.
Companion seeker,
Slowly cheaper.
You and I are,
Rain and paper.

We understand each other, he and I.
Tragedy can do that.
So when I see his eyes shine up a bit...
I look away.
And when my lower lip trembles
He does the same for me.
I know what songs he will need
A shot to get through.
And he knows to let go of my hand
When the sadness comes on too strong.
We are each others memories.
Those really special ones.
Each others alternative
To the loves we once had
Loves that changed us.
We share the same knowledge
That love like that won't come twice.
We don't hope or pray for it.
We don't have to expect it.
So when he kisses my temple and whispers, " It will be ok," I do the same for him.
We hold each other up when the
Balance is lost in our minds.
We are naked and beautiful.
Because there is nothing left for either of us to lose,
Or gain,
Or recover.
We just get to be part of the lonely hearts club band together.
Just passing the time until time passes.
Sharing lonely beds,
Overcooked food,
Knowing gazes,
And pity.
Jigsaw puzzles,
JJ Grey,
And "let me pass," kisses.
We tell the same stories over and over
Because we forget we told them.
I like that.
His cat likes me too.
Shine on you crazy ******' diamond,
And I will shine on you.

hey buddy did u know that under a powerful microscope a wood chip resembles our universe just let that sink in

we are so small we are so fricking small ok u hav to make yrself known or else u'll forever be nothing but a tiny floating speck

is that what u want to be for the rest of yr life??? a **** fricking speck no i dont think so

thats some horton hears a who type **** ok thats not ok

u know what else

no matter how known u make yrself u will always be just a tiny little speck but hey u know what

some specks can be bigger than other specks and this is not always physical

sometimes the traces u leave behind are bigger than u will ever be

so make a **** impact

voice yr stupid dumb beautiful opinions and voice them loud

be the tiniest speck and climb up as high as u can get and fricking shout at the top of ur little speck lungs

we are here were r here we r here and all that good jazz u kno

did i just write a poem about horton hears a who *******

shoutout to dr. suess for being a radass motherhecker thats some deep crap right there ****

You cant sleep if you are far
From me,

The bells of church wake me up with
First morning down in pink,
Here in the Melancholic town.
The adhan voice for prayer
Had woken your mind long ago…
But your eyes are so tired with
Longing to see me…

You wake up with thought of me
And every time you sleep with
Secret, precious picture of my face
Your eyes are looking to the world
There in the burning sun of Ramadan,
But they see just my blushing cheeks.

You cant sleep if you are far
From me,

You need me just inside of you
In your hot burning arms ,
Full of sparkles and fire you are,
Your need is never satisfied.
You just want to hug me tight
As if you swallow me completely
And me to live inside you..

How do you see me in your eyes?
As little fairy in a dress of tulip white.

But am I not so dangerous for you?
While coming in my Melancholic room
In moon full night,
You want to breath my smell,
To inhale my essence, all of me,
You want to touch me and embrace me,
But I coulodnt be enough for your
Hungry senses.

And i'm still asleep in peaceful dream
With stars, while you whisper again "
“ I adore you, sweet sister of mine”

why did you have to smile at me..
could you not of just walked on by and ignored me..
i noticed you first..
you had this luster to you that i wanted to hold you close and smell your hair..
vibrant skin, eyes the color of the earths emrealds..
long brown hair seem to flow with no wind..
and then the smile as we walked on by eachother..
that smile made my heart race..
that smile made time stop..
that smile silenced all sound..
for just a moment..
it happen to me..
i watched you walk on by as you faded away never looking back..
your smile added colors to my soul..
a color of rememberence, and a color of never seeing you again..

Ours is something
To be explained away;
I love you
But– I think to myself.
I love you
But– there will be a day I do not.
I love you
But– I do not know what love means.
I love you
But–

You gifted me a vase
Rose, iris, baby’s breath, chrysanthemum
In purples and pinks and whites
They wither quickly
Alongside the spider webs in my closet,
They crack and brown
Buried in the darkness of thick winter blankets,
Hidden within the folds
Of that green dress I wore
They rot.

I stay awake until
The old clock ticks in silence,
Sound bouncing off empty corners and into the abyss,
I unsheathe the vase from my closet and hold it up
To the yellow-orange ceiling light,
Blinds drawn tightly,
Damage control;
“Live, please, live. Just a little longer.”
I press my nose into it,
And baby’s breath becomes hemlock,
Iris into nightshade,
Chrysanthemums now oleander,
And the roses–
Stay roses,

I press my nose into it,
Tears replenish dried water,
Feeding the poison,
Dying, slowly, in darkness.

I love you
But– this cannot be love.
I love you
But– I have not sacrificed,
Have not pained or labored or suffered,
I love you
But– If this is love
Then what have I known?

Ours was something
Of swimming pools and summer air,
White boy indie guitar,
Art museums and coffee,
Flowers, book stores, paint drops on your cheek,
It was leather car seats and upstairs lofts,
The frantic finding of fabric
As doors creaked open.

I bury my face into purple roses,
I swear they smell of you,
“I love you, I love you, I love you,”
A million times,
“I love you, I love you, I love you,”
Until the words melt
Into a meaningless sludge,
No one to hear them,
Sound bouncing off empty corners and into the abyss,
I love you
And–
I am leaving you.

One hundred years ago
My Mammy was just three,
The exact same age as me,
When she sailed us across the sea,
All those years ago.

Just lately,  just now,
I said Mammy's Mammy's name out loud.
What was that, I asked.
For sure her name's not been said
For many, many years.
Margaret Duffy
A dog barked.
So I said my mother's:
Mammy
A breeze furled the window sheers.

The dog continued to yelp,
So I said her other names louder:
Brigid...........Nellie

I will keep the wind inside me,
And allow the dogs their day;
Your names will still be called upon,
In stress or tranquility.

We were
People of another caliber
Not so
Concerned with things like college algebra
Still we
Had to pass our finals so we’d
Meet up
For about an hour to study
But when I got to your place
It was the look on your face
The only question I got to
Was

Where should I put
My hands on you
Where should I put
My hands on you

We went
Out to grab a cup of coffee
And we
Talked about our thoughts on philosophy
I was
Partial to more modern theory
But you
Still seemed to be hung up on Socrates
But as you waved your arms around
Your point was proven and I found
I ought to ask you what to do
So

Where should I put
My hands on you
Where should I put
My hands on you