Goddess You

I will melt no more
nor make a goddess of you
soaked of sun and splendid shores
in gilded glory with cunning care
my dallying fingers carving sizzling waves
of each auric strand of hair.

In waters of heat-emboldened
pride, I will not fall
the sculpted beauty of your frame
awash in wanderings of my eye
the sheen of ancient longings spread--
like wax on wings to make me fly.

I will soar below you
not too close, nor lick
the seasoned fruits of dreams
where lay the drenching danger zone
of eagle's sky spread wide and bare
and sweet sadness still not flown.

As the searing joy is felt
then will I retreat
marvel at desire's dizzy height
where many wiser had fallen prey
victim of her hot, insouciant will
I, too, admire; then glide away.

And when the day has set to night
the eye of paler moon
guides an Ego bruised but spared
that sails beyond one golden glee
unlike Icarus, who with slow, shallow will
plunged fast and deep in fatal sea.



Can I Fill The Sky With You?

Can I fill the sky with you? weaving
wonder from your hair of gold
into electric filaments displayed above
for all on clear nights to behold.

Your eyes shine like the Milky Way
a galaxy of light gradations--
planet to moon to sun and stars, all
spun off your soul's scintillations.

Would I fill my mind with you? and
in doing I do dare become
another life form entirely
whose brief being to you succumbs.

How sweet you feed upon my thoughts
in a happy, parasitic way
you leave your host for dead in this love
yet alive each new wondrous day.

May I create a world of you? where
reaching deep within my dreams
you redo untold nightmare plans
and unsought solitary schemes.

The landscape of your love, I seek
like treasure bold explorers try
to claim for their queens with undying faith
through strange, uncharted earth and sky.



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.



Was It Ever Good Enough?

Poetry is done
was it ever good enough?

Not good enough to keep you
or spellbind or be
an incantation for returns

Not good enough
to touch you once
spaghetti straps slipping
off supple shoulders
fingers sliding down skin
to the music of hushed and hot breath

lips parting the brown, rich wisps
of your hair around tender lobes
delicacies nibbled on in impending hunger

I take you where I desire
on whispered oceans to explore
my hands over your breasts
in the liquid of caress

Oh, Circe, enchant me!
make me beg to be your swine
Oh, Bacchus, debauch me!
pour pour pour your wine

as dreams that flow free
like dress to hard wood floor
in a puddling gold lame'
as you beg and thirst for more

but before we dance in place
two hearts in perfect pace
before your need's embrace
as you turn, then face to face
one question:

Is it ever good enough
Now that poetry is done?

Penance

We are less crazy now, you and I, for love is many things--
an insanity for one a better seat exists to view our sun
but there is no penance in a western horizon
no more warmth to be borrowed from its eastern side

no magnificent face of God in the cloud burst of
spreading, crimson stain upon memory's gauze reflection
picked at and re-opened, to search for viable cause
of the uncauterized mistakes I had made in trying to love you
with heart and soul alone.

How unfair to have made a cathedral of our love
a religion of our need, as I worshipped only you

without a kneeling pad before a wooden pew
without a hand to hold in equal atonement
without a dark, insensate booth to confess my sin

a stupid lie I regret in the church of ourselves
for people, even lovers, sometimes stray from trust
then sweep up the debris in life's repentant dust
for love is many things--an ongoing injury for another
self-inflicted for the chance of feeling dreams

risking loss for the hope of never losing
and still I dare to say I miss you, I miss
the early morning fullness and cherished bliss
of a sunrise, golden, glowing, no asking why,
but I cannot heal my wound,

in sunset's scabrous sky...

Full-length Poetry Books
by Michael D. Petti:

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