Three making-love poems by Kevin Hart

by Kim on February 14, 2011

Simply to touch her hand
And know the undertow
Of feelings without names
That pulls my mouth to hers,

To listen for the laugh
That falls between her words
And live there all the week,
A lazy animal,

To run my fingertips
So slowly down her thigh
And feel the honey thicken
Inside my newfound flesh,

To ease her heavy hair
Away from ear and shoulder
The better to kiss her neck
And hear her saying Yes,

So that the bees will dance
So that the lion feeds
So that the truth is told
So that the ocean lives


I think that hardly anyone
Has ever fallen very far:
There are so many safety nets
There are so many nooses tied

For when you truly fall in love
Each glass of wine is tasted twice:
Because each sip is for her too
Because each sip means twice as much

I think that hardly anyone
Has ever fallen very far:
So many men walk round and round
So many men will not jump

For when you truly fall in love
The sun comes closer by a mile:
It is enough to make you sweat
It is enough to make you strip


I walk beside a stream
And feel the sunlight age
Upon my arms and face:
Only your touch gives life

I think of how you came
So suddenly to me:
As though God simply wiped
Horizons from the earth

Sweet love, come take my hand:
It is the strangest day
The first of all the world
Because of your caress

The shortest day will come
But God will look at us
And know himself at last:
And you will kiss his lips

Kevin Hart, “Nineteen Songs” (nos. 6, 9, 19), in Flame Tree: Selected Poems (Tarset, Northumberland: Bloodaxe Books, 2002), pp. 173-75, 180.

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Three making-love poems by Kevin Hart « The Domain
06.23.11 at 11:39 am

{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }


Pam 02.14.11 at 7:30 am

Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Lovely Kim.


Kim 02.14.11 at 8:44 am

Glad you like them, Pam. Harold Bloom has called Hart “the most outstanding Australian poet of his generation.” Love/sex and God are his themes. What else is there (apart from cats and baseball, of course).


AndyV 02.14.11 at 7:42 pm

Here is a love poem that I wrote:


Face to face,
Your breath is my breath,
We are as one,
Time stops.

This is our time,
Lips touching,
Soft silken kisses,
Bodies entwined,
Strong arms holding, caressing,
Secure, yet soft as velvet,
Gentle fingers stroking,
We move together,
Instinctively knowing each other,
We lie here,
Face to Face,
My breath is your breath,
Two are as one,
In this moment in time.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!


Pam 02.14.11 at 10:06 pm

I’m on the same page as Hart!! Thanks Kim.

Andy V, very romantic poem. Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.


Pam 02.17.11 at 12:18 am

Can’t go wrong with a Poet Laureate, even a dead one, can I?
Wouldn’t want to offend any of the incredible snobs of poetry.

“The Licorice Fields at Pontefract” by John Betjeman
In the licorice fields at Pontefract
My love and I did meet
And many a burdened licorice bush
Was blooming round our feet;
Red hair she had and golden skin,
Her sulky lips were shaped for sin,
Her sturdy legs were flannel-slack’d
The strongest legs in Pontefract.

The light and dangling licorice flowers
Gave off the sweetest smells;
From various black Victorian towers
The Sunday evening bells
Came pealing over dales and hills
And tanneries and silent mills
And lowly streets where country stops
And little shuttered corner shops.

She cast her blazing eyes on me
And plucked a licorice leaf;
I was her captive slave and she
My red-haired robber chief.
Oh love! for love I could not speak,
It left me winded, wilting, weak,
And held in brown arms strong and bare
And wound with flaming ropes of hair.

“In Betjeman’s love poems he sends up the speaker whose feelings of physical inferiority translate his substantial women into Amazons.”
Michael Schmidt


Kim 02.17.11 at 9:10 am

Hey Pam, do you know - in keeping with the thrust (if you like) of this post - the famous interview of Betjemen given just before his death? He was asked if he had any regrets about his life. He replied, rather melancholically, “I wish I’d had more sex.”


Pam 02.17.11 at 9:41 am

Thanks for choosing to talk to me. I guess this is love - when you choose to talk.


Pam 02.17.11 at 10:00 am

Oh, I forget. Also at a time suitable to you. And about a subject you are obviously interested in.


Shin 02.02.12 at 6:22 pm

That a good poems,,,, so it’s I think to lover… I like it

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