John Tustin

John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many literary journals, online and in print, in the last dozen years. contains links to his published poetry online.


My body, soft and pallid;
Shaky and stooped;
Withering and bulgy.
My body so close
To the precipice of unholy.
It is sad and it is fragile
And it is yours to keep –
My pathetic offering,
All I have to give.
It is yours to love
And adore
And you do!
You do.


As I get older I feel everything becoming narrower.
I feel life getting smaller and the inevitability of death
Closing in.
I try to be wider.
I try to make my life better and longer by accepting,
Not being afraid to fail or look foolish.
Right now this means I should try to kiss you
But I won’t because
No matter how narrow life and choices become
I will follow the dictation of my heart
But even more
The implied directions
Of a beautiful woman’s
Even when she says No.


Such a pretty woman you are:
My eyes conjure your legs along my bed,
Your symphony of hair,
Your eyes browner than the shell of a brazil nut,
My lip dangling on your lip like a reticent jumper.
How could I ever forget?
How could you?
I see you now:
Standing in your kitchen,
Drinking a glass of wine and staring out
At the water, the darkness of the water shining
Beneath the darkness of the sky
That cries into the ocean under the crooked halo
Of the moon
And you are thinking about me, too:
My legs along your bed,
My hair, my lips on yours, my tongue
Feeling the shape of your lips and your teeth,
Slow and sanguine
And especially my eyes -
As dark dull blue as the infinite sadness
Of alone here
Without you.

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