The Kiss

By Neil Carpathios Neil Carpathios
By freezing passion at its blossoming
perhaps Rodin knew he challenged
Sophocles who said as lover you want
ice to be ice yet not melt
in your hands. How stone,
implying permanence, might let us believe,
a moment, the seated figures are beyond the leaf
that cannot keep from letting go the branch,
beyond even stupidly purpling grapes
that do not understand the process
by which they darken; darken nevertheless.

Reprinted by permission of the author.

Source: Poetry (February 1999).


This poem originally appeared in the February 1999 issue of Poetry magazine

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February 1999
 Neil  Carpathios


Neil Carpathios is the author of three full-length poetry collections: Playground of Flesh (runner-up in the Main Street Rag Press Book Competition), At the Axis of Imponderables (winner of the Quercus Review Press Book Award), and Beyond the Bones (runner-up in the FutureCycle Press Book Competition). He also has published several award-winning chapbooks. The recipient of fellowships and grants from the Ohio Arts Council and . . .

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Poems by Neil Carpathios

POET’S REGION U.S., Midwestern

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