Tag Archives: ode

Ode to a Lover





Poetry, you are my lover.
You are the ear into which
I pour all I must say,
the listener who will not
turn away but probes
beneath layers to the quick
of my meaning.  You are
the sensualist who chocolates
my tongue, who holds to my nose
crushed leaves of bay laurel,
who snakes into my mouth,
my nipples, my belly,
rooting in the clay of my body
the flickerings of my mind.

Poetry, you are my soulmate.
You dive with me into sorrow,
pump air through fathoms
of hose as I plumb
my confusions, strap me
into the garb of the warrior
to battle my demons.
You pass the talking stick
between rivals clamoring
at my core, lift lanterns
into the murky corners
of my rage, exhort
me to look upon horror
with unflinching eyes
and dare to name what I see.

Poetry, you are my shaman.
Yours the way of the changeling,
you beckon me along the path
of the Others, to feel the hoof
and pad against rasp of the
stone, sinewy ripple of belly
through sage, blistered heel
beneath the chafe of the strap.
You wake me long before dawn,
gaze as if into an oracle
as I chip again and again
at the serpentine of my words,
whisper that beneath the chisel
I too am nearing bloom.

Lisa Dollar © 1997