Sunday, May 4, 2014

Margaux; or the Vision of a Cheetah in the Serengeti Plain

Supermodel Margaux Hemingway (1954-1996), granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway

Margaux; or the Vision of a Cheetah in the Serengeti Plain
Written by Jonathan Henderson
Monday April 28, 2014 @ 9:39 PM

Sawtooth baby, just you cry for me
As you penetrate the womb till thou
Sweetest sunlit shine brightened this
World, and the song was so sweet of
The angel's soliloquy upon your beck
And the call for a face so perplexed o'
Gracious abundance, the novel could
Be scripted either through the mind
Of the man trekking the snows of ol'
Kilimanjaro to you, as Fate caresses
Elegance abound, and as the light is
So bright - Please cry! Cry! Bleed of
Those initiating your baptism as He
Now casts thee into the fire of such a
Cruel, dark world Despondency saw
Fit to cradle you within its arms! O'
My babe! The cheetah of my dreams
Meandering 'cross the Serengeti's
Savanna, and how you ring of my
Lyre heralding a new soft face very
Demure, and your life's sojourn to
Captivate we men, your eyes entrap,
And brows hypnotize my conscious
Air as my thoughts translate into a
Breath, for you the first of scores to
Come, the life sum we're to see since
We're so blessed to open the page to
Your glamour, elegance, so soft to
My touch, but as with every rite of
Spring, the flower shall wilt upon a
Parchment Imperfection lent freely
Until you are as were prior, a dream

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Lost Sea to Despair

Lost Sea to Despair
Written by Jonathan Henderson
Saturday May 3, 2014 @ 9:37 PM

O' I do not remember before the present time
When I last committed the sin of crime, when
The beat of my soul hurt so well in accordance
To the drummer and his wiles - how I long for
A peace I never knew, the happiness of heart
So foreign as if a man from Kathmandu! O' do
You not think it possible to be true if my lover
Shall forever be assigned by my Creator, you?

Perception seems so far away, love, that which
We're all to enjoy, but my empty sky above just
Crashed my soiree by the landing... and if we're
Never to fear the despair always to be, if we're
Not to see the changes made bear fruit, o' how
Will I ever smile an inch or even a minutia of
That country mile? Those chain gangs toil 'neath
That sun so torrid, how it skewers thy frigidity
Away from my heart, replacing her with a sea
Coursing through the veins, a lost sea to despair
Fast - but as the sands descend to the bottom of
The cauldron's vat void of pleasure, embracing
Life's calumny, but I digress at the behest o' Fate's
Ennui towards me and all who slave to thy sins.