Below I have transcribed from memory one of my first poems, written when I was in high-school, which was praised in gushes and squeals by my fanclub at the time, that is to say my mother, a few close friends, and the girl I wrote it for (who was dating a total douche-bag). Nectar of the Mortal God was also published by American University of Paris’s literary journal, the Paris/Atlantic journal, 2003 edition, and even today it remains one of my favourites. This is the “thing” that more or less inspired me to self-publish a poetry collection, which I find now rather embarrassing, called The Twisted Fruits of Tedium. It features a back-cover picture of a me with a John Conner-style bowl cut and Gothic clothes, looking coldly into the camera with an “intellectual gaze”; this would be today described as an “emo” look. I have burnt most of the 300 or so copies, but some remain scattered across the continents.
It’s a love/heartbreak poem (give me a break, I was 17). And don’t laugh.
*****
Nectar of the Mortal God
The night of Adam’s Eve,
tongues entwined.
Those ambrosial lips
imbibed in mind,
did intoxicate; the kiss,
distilled by tears and time,
insorbed me into Eden’s womb
and now, with Heaven sterilized,
my soul,
the mute and vacant tomb,
lusts the liquor
of creation.
