IN THE TALK OF MY TOBACCO SMOKE - New Pagan Poem by Strider Marcus Jones

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IN THE TALK OF MY TOBACCO SMOKE

i have disconnected self

from the wire of the world

retreated to this unmade croft

of wild grass and savage stone

moored mountains

set in sea

blue black green grey

dyed all the colours of my mood

and liquid language-

to climb rocks

instead of rungs

living with them

moving around their settlements

of revolutionary random place

for simple solitary glory.

i am reduced again

to elements and matter

that barter her body for food

teasing and turning

her flesh to take words and plough.

rapid rain

slaps the skin

on honest hands

strongly gentle

while sowing seeds

the way i touch my lover

in the talk of my tobacco smoke:

now she knows

she tastes

like all the drops

of my dreams

falling on the forest

of our Lothlorien.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones 2012. From his book Pomegranate Flesh. All Rights Reserved.

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40 Poems From POMEGRANATE FLESH by Strider Marcus JonesWhere stories live. Discover now