O’ Highland girl where art thou
Out within the meadow, dancing in kilt and corn
A flowering maiden ner forlorn.
O’ Highland girl, brightest dower.
Ye tore a blaze
A perihelion slicing thru the maze.
And netted verse, Plato er Milton
Descending into sweetest Italian.
A conversazione at first recondite.
A meteor sparking and daubing the air
Then dipping the sheets with thyr polemic fare.
O’ Highland girl the corn in the meadow
Woven kilt adorned,
Thou art a praeternatural Phenom.
O’ Highland girl Ye art a Literal balm!
Flush the fields,
Animate and wield the horn o’ the poet’s invincible song!
Copyright © 2014 Aria Ligi from Volume II of the Romantic Series, Commemorating Life, Poems for Samuel Taylor Coleridge published in October Hill’s Winter Issue 2019
His fingers read my body like Braille, skimming the epidermis
Along the fine downy trail
We are on a scarlet sea
His hands in my mouth, my teeth in his bones,
Spitting the marrow out.
It hurts that he cannot see the curve, the words; the colors in me.
We chew like dogs on each other’s skin,
Hair and mucus, between the gums.
We claw and devour like rat infested ghetto women,
Noisy and messy, and full of need.
Blood, Bone, and Stone, Copyright © 2013 Aria Ligi published in VLP, Far From Home
A lovely new review from the eminent Poet Robert Cole.