https://www.albany.edu/offcourse
http://offcourse.org
 
 

Two Poems and Art, by Stephen Mead.

'Til the Room

is light, let us make shapes,
these limbs a brighter darkness
with sparks from the depths of skin,
immense & red, all pores a melted
entering...

Can't I read by your glow?
Can't you catch sight from the braille
Of mine?

Surface to surface, the multi-textured &
The tasting is breathing sound out of a
Shared instrument, is becoming one
Picasso guitar-body, & the notes are

Only air holding us, we, radiance itself,
Learning to lift, pull closer, a dance of
Hands, fingers just tracing to play time
Into timelessness

& by this be carried

Even in Sleep I hold your tears close, The curves which conform: Pink contour to translucent. Are these cheeks also that wetness, Those shudders, these arms? Here hiccoughs shake from rafters To beams, & we, each other's Exoskeletal , turn heart soft With muscle, with pulses That melt... Candles could be sculpted so

Stephen Mead is a writer/artist living in northeastern NY.
His home page, with resume and art samples, can be found at http://www.123soho.com/member/mead

Comments? Tell us!

Back to Of(f)course home