David Nelson Bradsher has a B.A. in English from UNC-Chapel Hill ’89, and resides in Raleigh, NC, a practitioner of metrical verse and fitness. He is the author of The Vampire Sonnets, a verse drama written in sequential Shakespearean sonnets.
With oil, passion, alcohol and matches,
You come consumed with fusing blood to fire,
A goddess versed in how good kindling catches
When well-placed wood— with friction — meets desire.
The wine is fine— screw out the cork, and pour.
Uncap the oil— squeeze — and go about
That task we’re both so sure you came here for.
The match is struck, though matches fizzle out;
Yet if you tread the chambers of my heart,
You’ll spark the embers left from fires past,
Where arsonists once tried and plied their art
Before I doused each blaze they’d set to last—
So if you plan to fan the flames you earn,
Then place your hand against my heart — and burn.
A Cyrano Scenario
I stand beneath a terrace, verse in hand,
Rehearsing rhymes composed to aid a friend—
And though no fan of pimping on demand,
I see her now, and — wow! — it’s aptly penned.
She’s at the railing, taking in the moon
While, draped in shadow, I await a chance
To croon aubades and sonnets, make her swoon,
Then freight my friend, by proxy, to romance.
But he is shy, unsure of girls like this,
And, as the scribe, I know of what I speak;
So if I advocate, and earn her kiss,
He’ll botch what I achieved with deft technique.
Perhaps I’ll save my friend his mortal pain
Should she succumb, and bid him to the light.
So he won’t fall— ashamed, defamed or slain—
I’ll scale her battlements, and win the night.