Carmen Willcox

Carmen Willcox tells us, "I am Mediterranean born and during my childhood I lived opposite an exquisite 12th Century Cathedral.  Each day, on my way to and from school, I would pass this romantic place.  The beautiful singing voices sounded heavenly as they drifted on the hot, sunny air.  Its ancient interior was dark and cold, filled with marble statues, glowing candles and haunting, monastic chanting.   Cloisters, dark-robed silent figures, incense; all these seeped into my young mind and still they remain a vital core of much of my writing."  You can obtain information about ordering her excellent books and CD's at or by visiting the ParadiseFarm web site.

At the The Art of Love competition organized by (Britain's largest contemporary art website, exhibiting nearly 10,000 artworks by over 750 artists worldwide), two of Carmen's  poems were selected to appear in an exhibition (and accompanying catalog) at the Arndean gallery in London during February 2004. The poetry entries were judged by Andrew Motion, Britain's Poet Laureate.



We could be soaring
                    this blue, this cool,
                    this moonlit night.

We could be soaring
                    like lost flames, spent,
                    slaked by Dawn's discovering light.

We could be shimmering,
                    feasting, glimmering
                    in a frisson of dangerous flight.

We could be dreaming, fleeing
                    scheming to find the stormy sigh
                    within that silent delight.

We could be opening worlds
                    of rare and total surrender,
                    parting their days of silken sleep.

We could be spreading aside
                    the slumber of waiting
                    for the gasp
                            of the thrust
                        of the breath-stabbing rush
                                    to blaze in.

And piercing the heavens
                    with the avid, glorious peril
                                    of falling too deep, too deep,

we would plead with the Angels
                    to forget our rebellious existence,
                    lock well our path to redemption,
                            then abandon
                            the solitary key.


I want to dive the depths of you.
I want to bail and scoop and dip
            the very marrow of the curves
                                                of you.

I want to drown in the myth of you.
I want to explore, explode and swim
            the darkest heart of you.

I want to exhale, inhale
            saturate, suffocate
            and wrench the breath
            and height and life of you.

I need to own the span and measure
            of the bedded, sleeping, dreaming you.

I need to reach the stretch of all the distance
            of the waking eyes of you.

I need to encircle the fullest extent
            of the breadth
                                        of the mystery of you.

I want to count the bones
            that covet the beauty in you.

I want to number the bridges you equal
            in that excellent, most exquisite power
                                    that is you.

I want to crush, distil,
            drink my fill
            of the essence of you.

I want to lay siege at your composure
            and win the abominable prize
                            of possessing you.

I want to mine, sift, search,
            gain entry to the wildest
                madness in you.

I want to delve, prise, excise
            and risk knowing all of you.

I want to tame the landscape
                            that is you.

Wild One

Undress your hair.
            It should snake, uncoil.

Braid it not, nor garland it
                                        with blooms.

Let all its wildness, colour
                        bay the winds, tame the moon.

Lavish fiercely its gleam,
                                        its perfumes.

Toss it, fling it, fly it.
                Loose it like a witch.

Wind it round your fingers,
                                    untress it, shake it.

                                    Drape it upon my feet.

Cascade it, parade it.
                            Make it tempt me,
                                                  break me.

Let it crush my reason,
        taunt me,
                           throw me,
                    bring me to defeat.

Be not coy, nor tame now.
                    Its shimmering tendrils seek to rout,
                                                                        inflame and tease.

Such lustrous locks were made
                                    to capture victims
        with ungodly chains,

                                                and predatory ease.

Undress your hair, for me.
                    Let it unfurl stealthily
                        or rapaciously.

For such desirable damnation,
I do renounce my priestly robes
                                            my pious mask,
                                                        my sins untold.

In this awed temple, I can truly adore
                and gladly kneel to serve Love's law.

I am risen, but I am lost.
                                    I have sinned,
                                        but embrace the sweet cost.

For your tempting treasures
                        I have willingly disowned all,

And submitting to mortal sacrilege,
                                        I solemnly pledge
                                                        My devoted downfall.


We are lovers

We are lovers
in all passion, enraptured.

We are lovers
in deepest desires, engulfed.

We are lovers
In warmest ecstasies devoured.

We are lovers
To dangerous moments, seduced.

We are lovers
Falling in spirals of scarlet bliss.

We are lovers
Storming the heavens in a demented kiss.

     *                           *                            *

And your full lips redden at
the touch of my caressing

And your mouth fills with longing
                       at the closeness
                                     of mine.

And your heartbeat
      quickens, at the sounds
                                     you love so.

And our eyes never leave
      the places they so deeply know.

We are lovers...