Aaron Blumenthal

Author, musician

61.
I will propose no passion flightless,
Lest that summery hereafter rise in
Fall, feeling: don't let me come to press
Cold lust to the ubiquity of skin
Before me there were no fault of line
To stir a tremble. See white, and, like a poet,
I feel, compelled to the impulse to drain
It of its blank beauty, lips ringing notes
In the leave of texture, wet silence like pale sheets
Fall, falling, takes you in its breath and stains
The very clarity of the air complete
Now with the repose of your passing from now to then.
Then take me, too, cold wind, culled memory,
The beauty of her mortal summary.
3/25/15 the last line can be read either as is or "the beauty of her being my mortal summary." 
62. For Natalie T. Chang
Come on, kiss me, pretty girl sitting across
Me at the table, taking dainty notes
ON dainty paper with a dainty pen.
I'll bet your handwriting's pretty, too, if lip gloss
And blue eyeliner are any indication.
I wanna look over your shoulder at those thoughts
Of yours and see if you're writing about me or just
Doodling dicks in the margin, or little flowers,
And you know what they say about flowers, and lust,
And spilling rain in the emerald hills and hours,
If you don't mind my language, pretty as you are.
Wait, don't look up! Your lips half-open, your eyes
Stained with our sadness; please, stay like that forever:
I could love that you, on whom my whole heart lies.
4/2/15 Don't like the ending. Abc acb, abab, abab
63. 
And when the darkness falls and burns away,
And when the charred and lilting edges swoon
To see the all that's made of night's child day,
There will my mind find your traces. And when the noon's
Nigh faded and the ecstasy abated,
My memory will give those times a luster
Which is the artful effort never sated,
Yet all that with my hours I can muster.
And when the moon rises and disguises Her
Lost light and takes it for its own, I'll dream
Of the down in the cheeks of leaves a love adjourned,
And petals shall the wild, strewn way thus seem.
It's dark; the sun is rising where you are.
And though I want to find you, you're too far.
I barely remember writing this. I found it crumpled on the floor beneath my desk. The ending makes it clear that it's about Chen.
64. 
Your smile was supposed to make you beautiful,
Laudanum air and the trammeled gates of leaden 
Eyelids lifted, the bleak pupils' lull
Reborn in luster such that all love glad
Of the minute perfect could form like ivy forms,
Choking the choker, hot sweet breath made shape
And staple of a worship past alarm.
Those thin hairs settled like a lock draped
Across some unwon treasure were supposed
To make you seem immortal, molded fast
To your black stranded youth where love takes post
And pardon falls like spray awash in the past,
That wake and sleep of an unfettered time
Where I, for loving you, account loved crime.
61.
I will propose no passion flightless,
Lest that summery hereafter rise in
Fall, feeling: don't let me come to press
Cold lust to the ubiquity of skin
Before me there were no fault of line
To stir a tremble. See white, and, like a poet,
I feel, compelled to the impulse to drain
It of its blank beauty, lips ringing notes
In the leave of texture, wet silence like pale sheets
Fall, falling, takes you in its breath and stains
The very clarity of the air complete
Now with the repose of your passing from now to then.
Then take me, too, cold wind, culled memory,
The beauty of her mortal summary.

62.
Come on, kiss me, pretty girl sitting across
Me at the table, taking dainty notes
ON dainty paper with a dainty pen.
I'll bet your handwriting's pretty, too, if lip gloss
And blue eyeliner are any indication.
I wanna look over your shoulder at those thoughts
Of yours and see if you're writing about me or just
Doodling dicks in the margin, or little flowers,
And you know what they say about flowers, and lust,
And spilling rain in the emerald hills and hours,
If you don't mind my language, pretty as you are.
Wait, don't look up! Your lips half-open, your eyes
Stained with our sadness; please, stay like that forever:
I could love that you, on whom my whole heart lies.

63. 
And when the darkness falls and burns away,
And when the charred and lilting edges swoon
To see the all that's made of night's child day,
There will my mind find your traces. And when the noon's
Nigh faded and the ecstasy abated,
My memory will give those times a luster
Which is the artful effort never sated,
Yet all that with my hours I can muster.
And when the moon rises and disguises Her
Lost light and takes it for its own, I'll dream
Of the down in the cheeks of leaves a love adjourned,
And petals shall the wild, strewn way thus seem.
It's dark; the sun is rising where you are.
And though I want to find you, you're too far.

64. 
Your smile was supposed to make you beautiful,
Laudanum air and the trammeled gates of leaden 
Eyelids lifted, the bleak pupils' lull
Reborn in luster such that all love glad
Of the minute perfect could form like ivy forms,
Choking the choker, hot sweet breath made shape
And staple of a worship past alarm.
Those thin hairs settled like a lock draped
Across some unwon treasure were supposed
To make you seem immortal, molded fast
To your black stranded youth where love takes post
And pardon falls like spray awash in the past,
That wake and sleep of an unfettered time
Where I, for loving you, account loved crime.