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Abraham Tor Poem
You clipped my wings
You cured my flirt
You blinded my sight
From bevy of beauties.
I'm a toy in your palm
Administered unto your wish
And, like powerful Samson
I'm doomed!
Love,
Sweet bait
Covering a naked hook
The cemetary of my life.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
Am not an aesthetic
poet.
I've no apollos
laurel in ode.
Too fragile is my
tongue to tell your
face;
For your look I dare
to speak.
Play me that
Amphion's harp
That in your mouth
dwells
For your sake I
shall be paris
For the Helen's face
you wear
I shall draw
Menelaus up again
To Trasimene Field.
I shall seek the
Delphian Oracle
That your heart I
may fathom.
Shall I employ Seba,
the questionnaire
That the discretion
of your choice I
win.
Sorania, my Helen
I am Ovid to his
Flea
And as jealous as
Oenon
Lead me to Venus'
chamber
And your dream I
promise be.
I stand by the
promise of Jephthah
To be your Romeo in
life and in death.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
They built an abattoir for man
In the heart of the land
Where rythm of catridges played ballad
To hapless P.O.W. of the ballot.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
The Beastie thing on the island
Where we exist as though we live
Wears no face.
I
've seen it not yet I know it. It
isn't the decayed head festooned with
flies.
It isn't a Lord of the Flies:
It is the crown.Yes, the crown.
The crown with the Jacks; The
crown with the Raphs That
wangles our rights and sets us
apart
.
The crown is nobody until wears the
head.
Yes! The head. Many heads.
Are they OF the people
Who exist with wreath lying on their
heads? Are
they BY the people Who
wish a rebirth in another man's land? Are
they FOR the people Who
cough for a voice to say...?
This death in life!
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
My ears flirt with the echo
Of a passing voice
Days ago, I lusted for more of it
Squinting at every passing voice.
Yesterday unend I stood at my window,
Expectant, Compulsive!
Today,
Like a helmit nostalgic for home
I waited for the passing lark.
Wow! Here you stand
My nightingale!
With your euphonic tune
Like music from heaven
Sing my name, call me Romeo
Paris or Samson,
For, in that tune
Shall I pronounce my vow:
The oath of my life!
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
Prying voyeur
Shining eye of heaven,
Why but this assunder?
Why call on our amorous souls
From the romance of silent night
By your glint throu' chunks and curtains?
Peeping Tom
Herald of waking dawn
Like a sexton calling sleepers
For morning prayer;
Why flash throu' the irises
Of our courting eyes?
Oh morning!
I weep to see you come so soon
In the company of this voyeuristic sun.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
I heard the
rustle of
the wind
I heard the
laughter of
the frond
I felt the
calm of the
night
I smelt the
fragrance
of the
flower
They
worked on
my heart
in gentle
promptings:
love muses
of the night
they
worked on
her as on
me
And in the
harmony
of things
I saw
desire rose
in her eyes
I saw her
lips
trembling
And I
moved on:
I lay my
first kiss
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2012
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Abraham Tor Poem
He pens the pensive lines
That prick men's heart unease
And cause some strands of hair
To rise in fear of guilt.
He wears no saintly apron
But communes in truth with God
To legislate on our behalf
In glossy words that talk.
He sees beyound our world
He tells our uncertain future
Like Isaiah, the prophet
With unmistaken flair.
One wonders who He is
That heals with ink-therapy
And like Jesus on the sea
Rescuing the drowning Peter
He strikes His thinking pen
And men's eyes are opened.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
It's cloudy but no rain fell
So is like in a glacier I fell
Sworn out is the pores on my body
Beguiling beholders as rashes on my body.
Should my heart be slate
It will easy be to read my state
And pity I know you will be
For this lovelorn I wear.
Whatever of me it may take
I shall be Jephthar to promise
That you come back to my place
To hear the secrets of my heart
No matter what it takes of me
I shall beSamson to my doom.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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Abraham Tor Poem
Oh daffodil of my life
Alone in my orchard with delight
Untainted like offspring of heaven
If ever that be. Like shining Helen
Grafted throu' Cupid's bow to Paris' soul
You sleep in my heart never waking to
cock crow.
Copyright © Abraham Tor | Year Posted 2011
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