Beyond the Lens
My woman’s eyes are always looking
beyond the lens in photographs
even after love has been found
Many women’s eyes look beyond a lens –
at least those seekers of souls and mates.
There is always movement in that
frozen light of a photograph
that holds a beautiful woman
inside its frame.
A hint of excitement is always
in the eyes of an intelligent woman,
a woman worth beyond loving.
Animated in stillness,
warm in cold contrast,
beauty captured, yet
Love now found.
Your lipstick stains my wineglass.
I have loved you long before
the grapes were harvested,
turned to a red deeper than your stain,
yet less intoxicating than your lips.
Stick to stone, hurt the bone
and words can always
Vow do us part.
Death may still kiss my bride,
a willful bride to a willing death.
Look how lovely in white!
How handsome in his best suit.
Grey as smoke-layer atop a pyre.
I can’t spell “separate” right
I always spell it wrong,
usually “s e p e r a t e,”
hearing “er,” not really “ar.”
It’s not right, I know, after
making the mistake in spelling.
(And this spelling by ear business? Really…)
But my soul, not my mind, controls my words;
it’s my soul misspelling a word it never liked,
feeling “us,” not really “me.”
Michael Griffith began writing poetry to help his mind and spirit become healthy as his body recovered from a life-changing injury. His works have recently appeared both online and in print in The Good Men Project, the Starving Poets Tour anthology book, Dual Coast Poetry, Degenerate Literature, NY Literary Magazine, and Wild Words. He teaches and resides near Princeton, NJ.