Love is a Battlefield
Our love is not a bauble,
Some confection of silver-gilt and mirrors,
Trumpery sparkle and flash.
It's hard:
Gun-metal grey and knife-edge keen.
Bitter tea, steeped tarry and gone cold
On endless stake-out nights.
Running 'til the breath tastes copper
And the muscles scream.
It's counting bullet holes,
And praying to the God I never trusted.
The word of life isn't "if", but "yes".
Yes, I'll build that bridge.
Yes, I'll take that risk.
Yes, I'll say that word.
"Hold your breath, sunshine."
There's some as want the glamour,
False beauty of the easy way.
Give me the blade that's tempered by the fire
And quenched with blood.
Nicked and scarred, but never broken.
You'll do for me, angelfish.
You'll do.
**
Our love is not a snowflake,
Fairy-light web of ice and mist
That melts on contact with the hand.
It's tough:
Fearful nights in hospital waiting rooms,
Interrogations gone bad,
Mentors turned traitor by money and age.
Never enough rest or food,
And always watching, always on the job.
It's seen betrayal by friends,
And lovers die as pawns for others' sins.
The word of life isn't "sure" but "try".
Try to cross that bridge
Try to meet that risk
Try to keep my word
"And then what?" "You'll save me."
Some people want the surface,
Pretty, undisturbed, a mirror for their needs.
I'll take the diamond in the rough—
Made indestructible by pressure and by heat,
Of life taken for the right reasons.
You'll do for me, sunshine.
You'll do.
**
Our love is not an ornament,
Unpacked for special days,
Then hidden once again in cotton wool.
It's bedrock:
Our soil is salted with blood,
Bittered with loss and pain.
We thrive in the cracks
Where soft and shallow rooted species wither.
What breaks the rocks beneath us,
Makes us stronger.
Bisto Kids against the world.
The word of power isn't "force" but "knowledge".
Design that bridge
Calculate that risk
Understand that word.
"Whatever we are, you made us."
Some people tell me, rip this out.
There is no room for love in this bleak time
Of spies, betrayal, doublethink and crime.
Roses and lavender are not weeds—
I'll give them room to grow among the stones.
And you'll do right, lads.
You'll do.
Title: Love is a Battlefield
Author: Verlaine
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes, please
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.
Our love is not a bauble,
Some confection of silver-gilt and mirrors,
Trumpery sparkle and flash.
It's hard:
Gun-metal grey and knife-edge keen.
Bitter tea, steeped tarry and gone cold
On endless stake-out nights.
Running 'til the breath tastes copper
And the muscles scream.
It's counting bullet holes,
And praying to the God I never trusted.
The word of life isn't "if", but "yes".
Yes, I'll build that bridge.
Yes, I'll take that risk.
Yes, I'll say that word.
"Hold your breath, sunshine."
There's some as want the glamour,
False beauty of the easy way.
Give me the blade that's tempered by the fire
And quenched with blood.
Nicked and scarred, but never broken.
You'll do for me, angelfish.
You'll do.
**
Our love is not a snowflake,
Fairy-light web of ice and mist
That melts on contact with the hand.
It's tough:
Fearful nights in hospital waiting rooms,
Interrogations gone bad,
Mentors turned traitor by money and age.
Never enough rest or food,
And always watching, always on the job.
It's seen betrayal by friends,
And lovers die as pawns for others' sins.
The word of life isn't "sure" but "try".
Try to cross that bridge
Try to meet that risk
Try to keep my word
"And then what?" "You'll save me."
Some people want the surface,
Pretty, undisturbed, a mirror for their needs.
I'll take the diamond in the rough—
Made indestructible by pressure and by heat,
Of life taken for the right reasons.
You'll do for me, sunshine.
You'll do.
**
Our love is not an ornament,
Unpacked for special days,
Then hidden once again in cotton wool.
It's bedrock:
Our soil is salted with blood,
Bittered with loss and pain.
We thrive in the cracks
Where soft and shallow rooted species wither.
What breaks the rocks beneath us,
Makes us stronger.
Bisto Kids against the world.
The word of power isn't "force" but "knowledge".
Design that bridge
Calculate that risk
Understand that word.
"Whatever we are, you made us."
Some people tell me, rip this out.
There is no room for love in this bleak time
Of spies, betrayal, doublethink and crime.
Roses and lavender are not weeds—
I'll give them room to grow among the stones.
And you'll do right, lads.
You'll do.
Title: Love is a Battlefield
Author: Verlaine
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes, please
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.
no subject
Date: 2020-12-14 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2020-12-15 06:37 am (UTC)A very powerful poem, thanks so much for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2020-12-15 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-15 04:47 pm (UTC)It's beautiful!
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2020-12-15 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-17 05:44 am (UTC)Powerful imagery, deep and thought provoking, it is every bit as perceptive and compelling as your other Pros works.
Thank you for sharing it.
Best wishes for Christmas and New Year.
no subject
Date: 2020-12-17 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-21 02:19 pm (UTC)