Catullus and I

Catullus and I

Alas. Poor Catullus. What an ache in thy soul.

The wrenched-out wretchedness hast taken its toll.

The heart and mind hath been swallowed whole,

As some capricious hand thy life doth troll.

Thou, love despised. Thy love disposed.

Clodia’s heart forever wert closed.

Upon thine brow the furrows imposed

By sentiment no words disclosed.

                                  

Mine eyes do leak. My heart asunder.

Like thyself, I too, doth blunder.

My mind rolls like slaps of thunder,

My spirit through mine heart doth plunder.

My body fails. My breast doth breathe.

Upon these sheets mine soul doth wreathe.

My aching heart its passions unsheathe

Upon mine pillows these tears bequeath.

The light of eyes in absence, starkness.

From bright blue hues to total darkness.

And round and round the spinning boundless,

Til sleep escapes, it’s exit soundless.

The crashing spasms of love’s inertia

Ignore the grinding mind’s agenda.

The clawing frenzy, all else addenda.

The haunting paroxysm to emerge gravida.

Until at last with the Smile’s return

The loss of lassitude, the heart doth burn.

The hands tremble, the loins yearn.

The utter torment doth inward turn.

Thou shalt not speak thine words of ardour.

Thou shalt not cross that fickle border.

Thou shalt not seek the peace of candor.

Thou shalt not precious time asquander.

Thou shalt sit and smile and play.

Thou shalt chat and yap and neigh.

And all the whilt thy soul shalt sway.

And whence alone at once shalt pray.

Upon the breath of Heaven’s God,

To the Heart of Our Sweet Lord.

This heartfelt cry to Him thou poured,

From this madness thy seeks His cure.

Warrior Princess