Keith Bickerstaffe Poet Verse

Manhattan Soliloquy

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises of
a summer's day displace my reveries.

I wake, and through my window I see
barges in the harbor, bustling like
beetles, scuttling over busy waters,
dragging ships with overflowing cargoes
safe to rest - the dock hands primed 
and ready to disgorge the merchandise,

as sunshine washes monoliths of steel
and glass in dazzling refinement - Manhattan
like a mass of golden bars, smoldering and tall.
Steam and smoke engulf a vibrant scene

encompassing, then drifting into nothingness,
the sky a blazing blue, the docks a maze
of rarified activity as yelling fills the air.

Beams irradiate my garret - drafts of bright 
and humid air like punches in the stomach
take the breath out of my lungs and leave me
gasping. I sit and watch you sleeping on the bed.

You stretch atop the covers like a vision,
your legs and arms a picture in repose;
I do not dare to wake you from your dreams,
your limbs splayed like a strumpet, you expose
 
your naked form, my touch will flutter your desire.

 
               your body 'wrapped in mine,
        our souls a living sacrament
                   to love and joy divine.
           I enter you and all the stars explode,
                      fulfillment is our quest,
                              our shining testament.


As evening gently falls the windows glimmer,
the city glistens now from altered light;
the glowing falters as the sun dips slowly,
dying in the West, makes way for night.
Activity's still rife, but in my garret,
I reach for you as darkness settles soft,
I hold you in my arms, forever blessed,
while stars are quietly dancing up aloft.

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Joe Maverick May 5, 2013 at 2:30 PM Quite a wide rangeing and yet intimate senario you provide here Keith; may return to this again I was looking for you yesterday and could'nt seem to find your page; good to read your post. '

Seosamh De Burca April 30, 2013 at 9:50 AM I so enjoyed this poem, you paint with words sir. Wonderful read.

Kathryn Collins April 30, 2013 at 7:51 AM Dear Keith - You have done it again, past to present, present to past. Oh the language you've employed drops my heart. Timelessness hovers over your scene. The Manhattan descriptive is so realistic yet ethereal as you draw it, only the most obtuse (or perhaps those who have not experienced it) cannot conjure the sound of the blasting of horns and construction sounds of masses of "golden bars"? A delight to the ears and eyes of a poet. Bravo again, Keith. love, Kathy

Donna Jones April 24, 2013 at 7:52 PM Wow Keith had to check...thought I was reading Frost there for a while!!!!! This should be published!!!!

Ilene Bauer April 24, 2013 at 4:07 PM oh my gosh, keith, you've created such an intimate and stirring mood in this magnificent piece. i love the description of manhattan - you've captured it so beautifully and then, on top of that, added romance and passion. what more could anyone want from a poem?

David De La Croes April 24, 2013 at 11:27 AM Your snapshots of the everydayness of this great city and the intimacy of human interaction provide meaningful experienced of moments in time. Well-written, Keith... David David De La Croes April 24, 2013 at 11:30 AM Sorry. Should be "... meaningful moments experienced in time... "