The Literary Review
ROME WASN’T BUILD IN A DAY
Rome wasn’t built in a day
my Lady Day
in a day I cross the Rubicam/no lamb
buttress yer fortress m’lord and batten down yer hatches
it’s a storm brewin in this cup
Rome wasn’t built in a day
my Lady Day
sang from the mouth of a deep ocean of history/her story
no mystery it done her all in
a stormy see
see
somewhere in the waters of your mind I fathom
you were lost at
see?
with your eyes shut tight
things were better that way
- Janet Restino
GARDEN 88 excerpt
I drew the lines of love with your pen
on parched lips
and they wet me like a mother cat with her kitten
and baby your won’t leave my mind
and baby you can rock me till I roll
roll off yer hips
and back onto your lips
for another good lickin
for another good lickin of yer love
I drew the lines of love
with so much help from above
genesis with apple breezes
and serpentine ways
blows silky and cheeky
and how the body loves to love
holding
to love holding
holding onto love’s bloom
scented and sent from above
I bite I swallow
the taste flies below the Equator
into tropical regions
of honeyed loins
and papaya trees
- Janet Restino
DEAREST MAN
One of us is a deer
footsure
mulching
munching
whatever’s underfoot… above… beyond
the wet woods
berries red unearthed in snow
listening for whales a while away
the other
has ears heated by Hendrix
wailing and wailing and wailing and wailing
is the record skip skipping?
is my heart
skip skipping?
do it again
make me feel it
feel it
again
make me
feel lit
again
- Janet Restino
FOUND STONE
This stone old and friendly
has a gargoyle living in it
one that you would feed grapes to
grapes from the very vineyard this stone is living in
moss seeping into its pores
and upon its hard hard head
moss nestling in, feeding that stone
so it will live in your memory
This stone leapt forth
into the hands of the sculptor
“I am yours now, I am yours
pick up your chisel and crack me open with your hammer
unhide me”
Its ancient head emerged with wide wild eyes
flaring nostrils, open mouth and pointy ears
boney chest curling into boney limbs crouching
to live in a house atop a tall bookcase
next to a chalice from a torn down church
and a candle
red
tall
burning for love
- Janet Restino
SOME MEMORIES WON'T DIE
Some memories won’t die
some memories won’t die…
see you on your back/pillow over your face
to muffle your screams
you you you
muffle your own screams
keeping in silence
lest the neighbors should know
your passion
your passion fluid line on the sheets of desire
on the sheets of desire
arpeggio of silky skin
sassy succulent calves
my fingertips upon your heartbeat
for hours listening to you then
my fingertips upon your heartbeat
a Braille reader of your dreams
your sleepin eyes
your sleepin eyes
deny me not
entry to your heart
- Janet Restino
COLOR POEM #1
Now I can see the color
see that it is such a substantial thing
that greets me when I have time for it
after the busybody day has done itself in
and the catsfur is camouflaged on the hardwoodfloor
orangey shellac shining
she licks her paws waits for me
and so I pause and see
above her clouds that fluff and my eyes that puff
puffy after the hard constitution of walls and pavements
lead one to believe
there is nothing but the man-made world
and in his image too and…
he didn’t do
such a very good job of it lately anyway
what with the scaffoldings and cranes collapsing
and the politicians’ predicaments…predilections and posturings…
So when the clouds roll by and call my name
softsaying “All Blues” and Miles of them too
with accents of violets and salmonypinks
I agree and promise to come to
Cloud 9 or wherever
(cosmologically speaking…it is not cosmo-politan
it is the cosmos logician…the cosmos beautician
the breath of silence descended from Cloud 9…
ancestor of thunderclap…second cousin to lightningbolt)
…yea…I agree and promise to come to…
lick my paws and just keep purring…just keep purring…purring
- Janet Restino