D.F. Paul

Speak to me
of the moon and stars
imagined in the night
when the light never was,
nor could we see
past the limits instilled
by our perpetual
disconnected connections.

Speak to me
and we’ll ignore the chimes
that sound at each turn
the hands round the face,
as we dance in a place,
born silent save for us,
that only exists
when we demand it must.

Speak to me, love
of the nights we never met
and count them for me,
countless though they be.
Tell me who you were
and how far we’ve strayed
from how you saw it then.
Tell me who you are.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.


Posted on November 22, 2012, in D.F. Paul, POETRY and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Sometimes I’m in the mood for rock n roll poetry, sometimes wit, but sometimes I’m in the mood for a bit of intimate romantic loss…if you can lose something you never had. And D.F. Paul delivers another good poem.

    Read his previous work here:

  2. D.F. Paul with his celebratory romantic imagination harks back to fulfilling connections and expectations and forwardly looks to an integral and meaningful relationship from associative love lost times in our lives, that loss of presence of innocence and experience of a Blakean thematic earth wise search by spelling and telling love that the trickiness of life often offs us even in our
    well meaning and kindly alluring, allusive language with D.F.’s wonderfully playful identity poetry.

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