February 23, 2020

“Ethereal Tryst,” Poems by Horacio Chavez

“Ethereal Tryst,” Poems by Horacio Chavez
Ethereal Tryst 
Meet me where the pink hued clouds entwine with infinity 
So, will we conjoin in our appointed waltz 
Upon that coral floor together in unity 
To enjoy what is and bemoan that which remains 
Our fate to hunger… 
Our union asunder 
Our feet skillful 
We dance the dance fate has called out 
Without malice though willful 
We are without doubt 
For all but our destiny… 
We step carefully 
Accepting that which is within our grasp 
In lieu of that wish that eludes 
Satisfied with the fortuitous clasp 
Of mind and spirit to conclude  
The interlude… 
Of our love subdued 
Perhaps fate will grant our desire 
Beyond the tryst that both plagues 
And blesses the fire 
Kindled by the wave 
That we may forever crave… 
Our ethereal tryst 


In Love With a Poet 
So you’re in love with a poet you say 
You adore his words 
He has a way of putting things down on paper 
So it thrills you to your core 
Did you stop to think 
That his craft may be your undoing 
All you care about is reading his poems 
Written especially for you 
That his poetry is like a window into his soul 
Oh…You poor thing 
Don’t you know that poets are liars 
Meter and rhyme supersede truth 
He writes more for himself than you 
He says you are his inspiration  
But so are the clouds and the mountains 
And the yapping dog next door 
Be not disheartened  
If you’re getting anything out of your affair 
Pretend you are him for a time 
Allow the fantasies to flow 
Don’t lower yourself to such a level 
That you think you can pen the words 
So sensuous and heartfelt 
You’ll find yourself mired in adjectives  
Better to love the poetry for its worth 
And remain detached from the font as he 
Pours words out like milk from a freshened cow 
Those sonnets may one day sour your heart 


Before You
Before I met you I was a writer 
Perhaps not prolific…not stellar 
But steady and competent  
Then my fascination and amours 
With you 
Led me to prolific mania 
I thought it was good 
You were becoming my muse  
Words percolated from pen to paper 
Poems flowed like meltwater over a 
Tabular ice shelf 
Then something happened… 
A state so insidious to a writer 
The Block 
My desire to write 
To read… 
Gave way to an obsession 
Not to offend  
Or ignore you  
Writing became your distant second 
My appetite for words 
Was quelled by the stress 
Delivered to my body in the form of  
The discourse leaked out of my jugular 
My life 
Bled out into useless pools of  
Black ink 

Then the breakup 
It was inexorable 
Thank you for this poem 

…My Love 


Horacio Chavez, a native of New Mexico and UNM graduate, resides in Albuquerque. He writes poetry, prose, essays and short stories. He often writes in one language and translates to the other. Work ranges from very light to oppressive and much is experimental. Some writing is on information gleaned from “The Greatest Generation” with the goal of preserving New Mexico traditions and stories in the written word. This is his first feature on The Fictional Café.

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