(1934 / Birmingham, Alabama United States)


You fractious, wayward, ill-tempered girl,
What monstrous, insults at me your hurl!
I inconstant in affection? Look to your soul
In deep reflection.
Can the wayward bumble bee alight
On just one flower and be requite;
It's in your nature to be so perverse.
Well I know, being so accursed.
I gave you love from out my heart,
Yes, this jesting fool played his part;
I whimpered, I wooed, I hung on your lips,
As if life's nectar could there be sipped;
Yes, I discourse as one who's mad,
I ambled and prate like any lad;
I tug and rush upon your line,
Like a fish who's bait he thinks divine;
Helter-skelter I rush about
Like some mad foolish, doltish lout;
A madman, yes, I'm quite depraved;
These wiles you wield lead to the grave;
I renounce my gifts, my costly words;
My glass repels my acts absurd;
If I have played the lover-fool
Pretend not innocence, being unschooled;
It's in your Nature to torture men
The devil guards the gates of heaven;
And if I seem wild, and uncouth;
The cause is yours, oh fledgling youth.

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Comments (8)

his melancholy woman forgotten before memory came this yellow movement bursting forth like coltrane's melodies all mouth.. very fine images. poetical. tony
his woman wet with wandering, reviving the beauty of forests and winds is telling you secrets gather up your odors and listen as she sings the mold from memory... a very fine poem. tony
Strong images poetical created...nice poem
Pleasures without tongues! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
something as like as phenomenal woman!
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