Separation - Shakespeare's Monkeys

Separation

draft

I know the bitter dust of love
obscuring sunset and the road north
the trail of dry endless despair
that we watch with a half-faux-smile
as the red convertible tumbles up the coast

you told me once of God and Moses
obedience and fear. "I can not love
like that." The commandments were still
unetched. The knife hung over the stone
a bronze tooth hungry for blood

I know the gritty texture of desire
that leaves our young flesh raw
the smooth of apathy under fingertips
that determine the readiness of we
for the balm of sunlit cherry stain

You told me once of God and Job
Obedience and suffering. "I can not love
like that." Your prayers hung there in Uz.
Key in the ignition, forever ahead
the dry husk of hope behind.

I know the empty goblet of touch
dry and heaving up the nothing within
the sickness of soul that accompanies the curse
that lesser loves might bequeath to God.
The engine revs. The red convertible carries you
away.

Sinnaminsun -

I always enjoy reading poetry centered around the theme of love-lost and the disapointment that lingers long after. I think you conveyed your emotions well.

The word "bitter" just before dusk, could be changed to some other descriptive/verb more fitting. A word that conveys a masking of the sunset or a consuming of it maybe. Or take out dust and replace it with another noun: I know the dragging haze of love

What is Uz?

Anstey -
A reference to the story of Job.

Anstey -

well.. dust does several things at once. First, it evokes the traditional christian funeral rites. The death of love as a corporeal entity, and the death of the body and soul as a result of lost love. Then it also alludes to the desert -- which works somewhat well with the car speeding off leaving behind a contrail. Creating, i hope, a more powerful image of abandonment. Dust also offers up that general idea of body dissipating - as most dust in a house is made up of human skin.

The bitterness offers 2 things that i want to hold, first is the image of breathing in the dead love. That taste of love gone bad. That taste of separation. Also, it reinforces the idea of desert and works off the stereotypes.

I will ponder them more though. Thanks Sin.

Mosquitobyte -

Great mixing of religious metaphor and love lost. In many ways, they are certainly akin. Your descriptors work well within both contexts and help to render a strong image, to this reader at least.

"the smooth of apathy under fingertips" - this line however, reads poorly. I feel there must be a word missing here, "the smooth pull of apathy under fingertips" perhaps? or better yet, "the smooth tide of apathy under fingertips", lending a greater allusion to the parchment of the desert elsewhere.

Mos.