APRES VOUS MONSIEUR*

APRES VOUS MONSIEUR...

Lying curled up in sheets of grey
aching in agony - throughout the day.
Wondering what potent persuasion
could have lead you astray?

There'll be no dessert or second helpings
for you were the "Main Course".
There'll be no sweetness in the savouring -
every tastebud feels too coarse.

There'll be no feasting on forever,
no scorching sensuality with her sighs.
Now I must stultify my hunger
on a soupcon of goodbyes.

There'll be no more whispers
no poetry screenings in the dark,
only glimpses of you to memorize -
to etch forever on my heart.

No more Midnight Muse to insire me
just a long bleak cold eternity.
No more dreams to write of
just a daily dying from ennui...

BjR July 12, 09

APRES VOUS MONSIEUR - AFTER YOU SIR.

— Bonitaj, Jul 12, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Tip of Southern Africa, ZAF

Favorite Poets: Too many to narrow down, but briefly :, AUDEN, T.S. ELIOT, DICKENSON, RILKE, THOREAU, RUMI ... the list is endless. Am inspired by many, especially those that live lives of "quiet desperation, and go to the grave with a song still in them" (THoreau)

Critiques

Seren

16 years 11 months ago

OH my Boni this is

OH my Boni this is beautifully deep I loved it ... Am very tired tonight but I will leave a longer comment when I am up to it much Love Jayne x x

Bonitaj

16 years 11 months ago

AH Jayne!

Why do women always KNOW this stuff so well!?? Thank you once again for stopping by and resting your angel's wing on my page! Boni x

Ink Dragon

16 years 11 months ago

Boni,

first off, a typo crept in here, please do correct it asap. (title: tous-> vous) Beautiful imagery, and very intense emotions (as always). Now *rolls up her sleeves*, my suggestions: APRES VOUS MONSIEUR… Lying curled up in sheets of grey, aching in agony - throughout the day wondering what potent persuasion could have led you astray? There’ll be no dessert or second helpings for you were the main course. There’ll be no sweetness in the savouring - every tastebud feels too coarse. There’ll be no feasting on forever, no scorching sensuality with her sighs. Now I must stultify my hunger on a soupcon of goodbyes. There’ll be no more whispers, no poetry screenings in the dark, only glimpses of you to memorize, to etch forever onto my heart. No more Midnight Muse to inspire me, just a long bleak cold eternity. No more dreams to write of, just a daily dying from ennui… Felt like many of your lines yearned for a full stop here...What do you think? Yours, ~Nina P.S. Have you read my poem "Life's labyrinthine course"? I think we have a theme in common here...

Bonitaj

16 years 11 months ago

actually no Nina!

Hadn't read it but will go back and do so now. Thank you once again for you meticulous corrections. I didn't copy your punctuation exactly 'cause when I go back to do corrections I cannot scroll down simultaneously i.e. different page. but I think I've got your gist and hopefully done it more justice! Thank you for your generous assessment and wonderfully discerning eye! Best wishes Boni ps. Thanks esp. for the French - do read my comment there which I submitted afterwards!