Discovered World
A Poet's Intimate Portrait

Introduction

"...and after we disentangle our arms and hands from the lucid, but impossible, moment of unexpected destiny, after that brief eternity of togetherness is undone, I begin to scrawl on some enchanted vegetable and oil-stained paper pizza plate, discarded long, ago my heart's desire. Poetic words for, and never seen by, a special friend that attempt to imitate, pay homage to, and conjure up what poets through the ages had imagined of love...The discovery of its exultation and yearning. The discovery of its hurt and bittersweet silent remembrance..."

-- Michael D. Petti

Excerpt

Discovered World

I never wanted
more than you are,
more than you mean to me...
not for all the treasures in the world we know...

Not the glorious sun, its splendorous prism
burning each setting horizon with unearthly color--
I'll gaze upon your eyes instead;
Not the calm of the settled evening, its gentle breath
cooling off the day's hot and hectic dangers--
your whisper in my ear soothes more;
Not one solitary moment of seclusion, its silent
cathedral of seconds offering peace like a prayer--
I'll worship you forever;

Nor the dream of floating on air, merging
with cloud and sky and star--
your pillow beside mine is all I need.

And if I sometimes stray from my path of joy,
falling off the edge of our discovered world,
losing myself in unrecognizable descents of heart,
I know you will understand
I know you will hold out your hand
I know you will guide me back to land

to your secure bed of friendship
and the blanket-tuck of your smile.

 

I Knew Passion

i knew passion
in a small dark room a mattress and
empty bottles
quickly departing
before the door it seems was opened to admit
stealing through a corridor upon a stair
vomiting dimness on each descending step

so long now

to a mocking welcome mat
as a climax into night
brings 3 a.m. streets where
friendless traffic lights obey forsaken laws
at heartless crosswalks selling sophistry
with their signposts which at every turn insult

when cold becomes a lover
and nowhere is a place

 

Morality Foreplay

What deceit must I make
of this endeavored situation?--
the suspension of guilt on my part,
the relaxation of fear on yours.

We are planar prisoners, surrounded
by a universe of lace-lowered standards and
pillow-proven rationalizations.

There you are in your perfect form:
remorse unbridled in the readiness of desire
that oozes like eucharistic wine from
the pores of your soul's consecration.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Do you hear my heart bleating the blood
of the sacrificial lamb I am to make of myself
before you?

And in the sweet arching of your back,
do I submit to the necessary guillotining
of my convictions.

For you are not mine, I am not yours.

We are disciples of our own fugitive
decisions, spreading the word
and consciousness of this dire deed
like a renegade, excommunicated heretic.

Yet, in the clasp of your real flesh,
in the sensation of my fevered fingers--
There is no morality!
There is only a sweltering for you--
a mindless meaning in the cauldron
of consummation.

And as your own resolve drips away
with the sweat of your satisfaction,
what can I do but obligate
my own pleasure to the sacrifice
of your bodily will and
enjoin the Night and its unhallowed
dome of stars to continue to twinkle in
unperturbed, insouciant unison
and random reverence
in this cathedral, where only we
hear the homilies of our charismatic

Ooohhh's.

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ISBN: 1592860168

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About Author Michael D. Petti
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