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 Consign to history the muse of Troy

Whose beauty conquers any heart but mine,

Which loves and weeps in longing for a boy

In freshly burgeoned lustre on the vine.

Possessed of all that time and age dilute

And never find their way to reconstruct:

My own awaking, freshly ripened fruit

In perfect blossom but as yet unplucked.

Enamoured of this love that nature bore

To penetrate into the heart of me;

I gladly yield my hand to guide, and more:

Indulge in nature as it ought to be.

The boy would be a man in my embrace,

If I could harvest of his fruits – and taste.

 

And such an appetite I have to feast

Voraciously upon his primal spire:

To make of that unseasoned buck a beast

Beneath the moonlight of my own desire.

Or better yet, he should remain endowed

With all the innocence of boyish charm:

Inhibited by youth’s forbidding shroud

Until he lies surrendered in my arms.

My kingdom for that one, indulgent hour

Of such elusive satisfaction; just

To fall upon his promise, and devour;

To soar in rapturous delight of lust.

Would sorrow perish in his passion-throes…

Or appetite, for having tasted, grow.

 

I sail for conquest of uncharted land:

To seal, in one almighty trembling gasp,

The majesty of his dominion’s span

Forever in my domineering grasp.

Full-bodied in my yearning, tantalised

By all that waits on that abundant shore:

My lust-begotten longings realised

In plundering his undiscovered store.

A conqueror of Eden, yes, but more:

A liberating idol from beyond

The swollen sea of time – to be adored

As emissary of the coming dawn.

Oh, love! To venture where my dreams have roamed:

To move within his realm, and call it ‘home’.

 

What dreams they are, for fallen cherries taste

As pale and bitter counterfeits to those

Of blushing, blooming, fruitful lips – encased

In pallid flesh to rival virgin snows.

A longing glance from his delirious,

Enraptured eyes; unspoken questions met

With certainty from my imperious

Device; amid elation, sighs and sweat:

Apotheosis! Oh, perfection of

A little death! Immeasurable wealth

In those climactic moments wherein love

Has conquered breath, and form, and thought,and self.

The world that here awaits your eyes may seem

A paradise; Alas, ‘tis all a dream.

 

My sweet chimera – damsel, maiden, knight!

A fearless beauty lingers in your youth;

But time will see your heart is broken – night

Will fall enwrought with darkly fashioned truth;

And I, with all my triumphs and my charms,

Will witness beauty wither on the vine;

My everything in some seducer’s arms:

A subject to a lesser love than mine.

Fair Dorian, forbid despair to waste

What once is lost and never thus regained;

Oh, lust! Release yourself in my embrace

‘Til only you and I and love remain.

Ascend to that euphoric, sacred plane

‘Til only you and I and love remain.

Dorian

Ian Black

Ian Black 

 

 

 

 

Modern writer of classical poetry

 A sonnet sequence intermingling homoerotic love and lust.

Lise Colas

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