The future ain't what it used to be.

Yogi Berra
FEBRUARY 14, 2011 12:18AM

Valentine Call

Rate: 9 Flag

LOVE POEM

 

An “L” alone is two lines

Joined at right angles.

Not much to see,

And, sounded, has the hum

Of a stalled electric motor.

 

An “O” is like an empty egg.

A simple shape

That turns upon itself.

In conversation,

Sea lions say “O”.

 

“V” is like a tipped up “L”,

Somewhat squeezed,

But nicely balanced.

Electric arcs threaten

With the sound of “V”.

 

“E” holds out three arms

For stability,

Or, in lower case,

Is an embryonic curl.

 

Your legs are flowing glaciers of flesh

Ending in the terminal moraine

Of your toes.

 

Together, your hips and gluteus maximi

Are interesting convexities

With fascinating fissures.

 

Your bones beneath,

Structured for integrity and mobility

Are Brancusi dreams.

 

Your navel stares back at me unerringly.

It marks the spot

You were plucked from your mother.

 

Your breasts are globes of gelatin

Whose brown eyed nipples

Vie with your navel.

 

Your face is as complex

As the stormy face of Jupiter

And conveys the weather of your soul.

 

In separation

These components have interest.

Assembled, they spell “LOVE”.

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Comments

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Jan, I love your amazing wit and your uniqueness.

Thank you so very much for joining in. A very big smile here!
Assembled or each unique facet.. Love it is. Nice Jan. Happy Valentines Day to you.
"Terminal morraine" in your post? That pile of stuff left when a glacier receeds?
Got it here in KC...and LOVE it in poetry like this!
lovely! I wish someone would say I was a Brancusi dream! I'll have to settle for a matronly Degas.
A dweller's homage to a favorite planet.
Sounds like you found a winner, Jan. I'm sure you'll be melting her "glaciers of flesh."
What beauty. I was wondering if you were seeing this in the flesh or in imagination...it is beautiful.