Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Blue Prince

I tried to build a temple of my love
but the columns were improbable,
nonsensical, and structurally impossible.
I tried to build a temple of my love
but the thousand windows,
each with aspects of you,
rarely caught the sun.
I tried to build a temple of my love
but the insulation,
which consisted entirely of the warmth of your arms,
and the heat of your kisses,
has now been stripped away.
I tried to build a temple of my love
but the light-switches were too fanciful,
the work-surfaces too porous,
the arches too erotic,
the door-handles too affectionate.
I tried to build a temple of my love
but now, I see,
I should have been a poet,
to articulate
that
which architecture cannot express.

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Published in: on October 12, 2009 at 5:27 pm  Comments (8)  
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8 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Every week you post something fantastic, and every week I feel smug that I am friends with you when others are not. Weirdest compliment ever?

  2. Me too! I’m friends too! *feels smug*

    -Beth

  3. I feel smug because I’m his arch-nemesis – does that also count?

    • Arch nemesis? HA! You’re a third-tier nemesis, at best.

      • The man you know as me is actually a mere pawn in the hands of a master manipulator, a fiendish weaver of intrigues and fashioner of plots who for reasons he does not quite understand himself, lists you amongst those whose demise he ultimately seeks to bring about. As it happens that murderous impulse has sprung from the eldritch influence of a spirit – the ghost of a gypsie wizard dead some 400 years, filled with dark malevolence, who holds an undying vendetta against your family over a long forogtten act of base treachery.

        Unbestknown to said wraith, the vile deed for which he assigns blame to your distant ancestor was in fact commited by an imposter – a timetravelling metamorphosing alien cyborg turkey, who’s name best translates into our tongue as Roweena.

        Why did Roweena choose to frame your forefather for a horrendous and pointless crime? The answer is a deep mystering lying at the heart of the genesis of her* entire race. A race created for the SOLE purpose of bringing about your eventual doom. A race created…. BY ME, YOUR UNSUSPECTED ARCH-FUCKING NEMESIS.

        —————–

        *(Strictly speaking, the alien cyborg species has five and a half genders. Roweena’s is the second closest analogue to female.)

  4. Your romanticism has become more pronounced of late – it is beautiful.

  5. Aww shucks. Thanks ladies!

  6. Also I am smug that I’m friends with Jordan, reading this.


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