Peter A. Weinberg – Poetry

                1.

Love has no mother, no father...

He buries himself within himself
   Flew up so high the sun scorched him

Never thought such pain was possible

Plague days—we examine our skin for rashes
   panic over every cough

His fierce, opinionated and able lover, gone

                2.

What she gains always ebbs, dissipates

Then she cares nothing for the lover
   who once took her breath away

 Only the flimsiest membrane stays

Apart from their lust, real lovers don’t know
   what they want from each other

But they want to stay together

                3.

There are patterns that don’t change

Love’s neither beautiful nor good, says the sage
   It’s some hard-edged yearning in between

A powerful spirit that descends

We seek to keep our passions green
   I didn’t know that you could love so fiercely

and not get what you want

                4.

Love, like gold, keeps its color

no matter how hot the fire
   I forgot what normal sleep is

Jumbled panic beneath a cool and assured demeanor

Perhaps we’ll see each other again, babe,
   I yearn for that, her heart, her lust

maybe in Paris

- April 7, 2011 -