the world is mine oyster…

clouds’ glossy nacre
spreads and coats the sky’s blue shell
you, love:  each day’s pearl

*     *     *

© Gregory V Driscoll 2014

false spring day

this illusory springtime
it pleases me not nor do I need it
for you   my lovely one
are my season of love
and my summer   my autumn
even my winter if we’re apart
when you go away  the only fire
left for me is our earnest love
this blaze consuming the heavens
the earth  even the very seas

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

one night near Tenochtitlán circa 1521- Hernán Cortés speaking to Malinalli Tenepal aka Doña Marina (La Malinche)

I am a conqueror conquered
by your eyes and your form
by the freedom of your soul
by your mettle’s strength
willing to submit to the yoke
of your thighs  I give myself to you
as among the Aztecs  I offer myself
to be thrown from the summit
of your frenzied depths
to the base of my passion’s peak
once you have ripped from my breast
this heart and tasted its sweetness
yes   its bloody sweetness
I no longer need it   for each beat
of your heart now gives me life
my savage goddess   come
strike me with your knife-sharp tongue
tear me asunder with
your pleasure-bearing fingers
for now I am a conqueror conquered

*     *     *

© Gregory V Driscoll 2014

late november night

dark limbs   branches   twigs
serpents against cloud-gray skies
primordial fear

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

end of the affair

the bare tree shivers
in autumn wind’s cold embrace
songbirds fall silent

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

diligamus nos invicem in aeternum!

every time I see you
I learn more of beauty
and more about its force
like calendula blooms
my captive eyes follow you
like a moth to a candle’s flame
my heart is inexorably drawn
to the intensity of your exquisiteness
may I burn in the fire of this flower
like larks at sunrise
shall my senses sing
among the flames of love

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

idée fixe

ever since you revealed yourself
a wild excitement has entangled me
like a hummingbird near a blossom
in a rapture of love I hover about you
the wings of longing find no rest
till the beak siphons nectar’s every drop

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014