Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DEMI-MONDAINE, by FRANCES M. LIPP


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DEMI-MONDAINE, by                    
First Line: I do not think your sin as grave
Last Line: This, worse than sin!
Subject(s): Punishment; Sin; Soul


I do not think your sin as grave
As is your punishment,
Knowing but priced caress
Without a holy tenderness, beyond
The swift hot quest of instant's sharp desires . . .
Insentient, that repel, and numb
To moving death.
For you must close your eyes, and heart
Lest you recall
An April when white blossoms caught your hair,
When dew-kissed hands, as he . . .
Who raced to meet you, in still sacristy
Of candled stars, of incensed air . . .
. . . Spoke eagerly those words
Grown silent over hurried years.

I know you do not paint your lips for them
But for the call of bread . . .
Beneath your flaming robe
One walks as dead.
Worse condemnation sits in your own soul
Than any greed may give, or after-god . . .
With dreams and hope drugged,
Leaden, lying in
Your breast . . . a stone,
This, worse than sin!





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