POETRY – 4

MEMORY

July 31, 2010

In the Moment
I was Open,
the Sea, she
stole the Pearl,
threw me,
abandoned
Shell
rolling
upon a
dead Shore,
carving in me
her Echo
sent curving
as sad gulls
screaming
speechless
my Story
in wingless
flight
across a Sky
that meets
the Sea
at
No Horizon.

THE DOOR-KEEPER

July 30, 2010

Open a door,
send across
candy floss.

Take it back.
Alas, alack,
in the black.

All seek gold,
you be cold,
blue enfold.

CONVERSATIONS 3 – FREEING FREE SPIRITS

July 25, 2010

red rose: let me tell you something that i have told no one
white rose: tell me
red rose: when i was shattered inside and everything no one and nothing was there I found this church which was beautiful and ancient
white rose: yes?
red rose: and i entered a church after a long while and there was a corner i sat in and prayed and said to god if you keep me sane i will never forget you and went and had holy communion
white rose: what is holy communion
red rose: then i went thru this spiritual journey and returned to this beautiful and ancient church and had holy communion again
white rose: then?
red rose: and a voice told me “this is where you will be buried”
white rose: oh
red rose: and it was like now i know where i will end up too
and that was so peaceful knowing there is a place for my body kept for me
then i came out and someone was telling me you look so peaceful after so many years what is it and i almost blurted out the secret
but then I thought either they will be sad or they will not understand so all I said was “i am going home”
white rose: 🙂 hmmm
red rose: and they smiled but they did not know what i meant
they will know one day when i tell them just before i go home
leave the planet to be a free spirit without a body again
what i was before
and what i carry in me because of my life
isn’t that beautiful?
white rose 🙂
red rose: to know where you come from and where you are going finally?
white rose: it sounds beautiful from you
🙂
red rose: a little girl said this once too and i was startled because i thot i was the only one who thot like that
she said i can remember when i was only a spirit before i came into my body
and everyone looked at her strangely
white rose 🙂
red rose: one day i will share this with someone like her so she doesn’t think she is a freak
and hope she won’t forget either as she grows up
white rose 🙂 yeah
red rose: the other day when i was terribly exhausted i suddenly found myself telling myself “you are not your body why are you so upset”
and it made the exhaustion go away inside me – only the body was exhausted
and then i understood this is how it is
white rose 🙂 🙂 🙂
red rose: the body is separate ultimately
white rose: yea
red rose: and the spirit does things thru the body but as we grow and live we mix the two up
and then the spirit is chained by the body
white rose: hmmm
red rose: and dragged down
because you identify your being with the body
the two are different
white rose: yeah
two are different
red rose: the spirit is the charioteer
the body is the chariot and five horses
white rose: sometimes what the body does is not what spirit wants
red rose: no for me the body always does what the spirit wants but the spirit begins identifying with the body and that is the danger – then when the time comes for spirit to be separate there is trouble
you can’t let the clothes drop to the ground
they are not in opposition
at least this is what i see
the opposition comes if one pits the spirit against the body instead of being in the true nature of both
white rose: hmmm
red rose: that one is only the dress and can be put off
while the wearer is infinite and eternal
so we can put on bodies of different sorts
i will wear another body later when this one is taken off
white rose: yeah
red rose: or rather when this one wears out and becomes rags and finally dissolves into dust or ash
white rose: hmm
red rose: there is no real danger for the body because it is programmed to wear out ..it is made of earthly substance and all that is earthly will rust or dissolve but the spirit is heavenly and has always lived
so whether your body gets wrecked at 20 in a car smash or you die at 70 without teeth or potency
it is because the body will always collapse one way or the other
but the spirit can remain untouched
that’s why christ said do not be afraid of those who can destroy your body from without or the things in the body that can destroy you from within like dark thoughts
or twisted emotions
because the body is prone to destruction
but the spirit must be alive and burning with passion
that is what we call and understand to be “the passion of christ”
his spirit
white rose: oh
red rose: passionate about everything and everyone
passionate about life
and everything in life – the good the bad the ugly
the ups the downs the pain the joy all things can be accepted by the spirit
if there is humility
which can be translated as openness to all experiences
the spirit passes through all things
white rose: what it does not pass thru? is there anything?
red rose: getting not getting tragedy
if one does not pass through anything one has reached the original state
one is then everywhere and in everything and around
words are not enough to describe what is outside all things
that’s why i embrace sorrow and suffering
white rose: hmmm
red rose: just as i embrace joy and laughter
white rose 🙂
red rose: and i don’t want to lose any of it while in this body
because outside perhaps perhaps these cannot be experienced
maybe that is why i chose this body but i don’t remember the point at which i chose it or the point at which i entered it
i only know what i experience as a human body till something happens where i remember who i really am
other than the body
white rose: hmmm
red rose: the body can through the experiences it provides fool the spirit perhaps to imagine that i am only the body
and thus i never know where i came from what i was – or what i am – or where i am going
because the body dulls the spirit
these things are becoming very clear now
and the spirit does not experience time – we have some glimpses of it – when we are high or in love etc – glimpses of timelessness
but when the spirit identifies with time and experience …it becomes dull
and wonders why the body is failing
atman forgets paramatman
atman forgets it is paramatman
white rose: hmm
red rose: and maya takes over – timelessness is trapped in time through the body
when actually you must only use the body to explore time without identifying with it and experiences in time
white rose: hmmm
red rose: but one question i don’t have the answer to and i am searching for it – what makes a timeless spirit want to enter time?
i am trying to go back and find out why i wanted to enter time at all
through a body
there must be a higher reason other than just the desire to discover what time is and what the body experiences might be
i don’t know
white rose: i think if it won’t enter time then the body wouldn’t die and the spirit won’t get another body
as body has to die after spirit has learnt
red rose: what is the spirit learning?
white rose: body is related to time
red rose: the two questions are inter related
if the spirit had taken a body before why does the spirit want to take another body again and again?
why experience time and body over and over again?
because something has not been learnt?
white rose: because every time the spirit is faced with different questions
red rose: so what is that something?
white rose: different learning
red rose: knowledge?
wisdom?
white rose: different sorrows, different depths of sorrows
it’s not just knowledge or learning
red rose: and when does a spirit stop wanting a body? when it knows all things and all answers to all questions?
then the cycle is broken?
then it is nir-bana (no-thingness)?
i don’t know
white rose: when the spirit sets itself free from maya then it doesn’t want body
red rose: yes
white rose: then the spirit is free
red rose: free to take a body and not take a body
white rose: then it never needs a body
red rose: yeah
am going there
white rose: free to never take a body
red rose: am going there perhaps
you are traveling with me deep
white rose 🙂 hmmm hmmm
red rose: jonathan livingston seagull
🙂
white rose 🙂
yea
red rose 🙂
enough for now …

 

THE ANOINTING

June 30, 2010

Remember, and if it’s hard doing so,
understand how scented oils of love
were kneaded into the sighing pores
of a falling failing bud just plucked up,
mind-jammed fiercely into a glass vase.
Tell it how it is and exactly how it was.

Now, every pore is denied, closed fast
in the desert of my body, my alabaster
bottle is shattered, the fragrance fills
all and nothing, its deadly poison kills.

Death is a way of life in the wilderness
of the terrors of thirst, mirages, sands.
It’s been practiced well in my red hands.

Yet remain my two eyes, two ears, nostrils,
my two nozzles of excrement , procreation,
all swinging gently. Hang, without any plea
for re-membering, bodiless upon the Tree!

 

THE LIVING DEAD

June 28, 2010

Death
Walks on two legs
Flits on two wings
Crawls like a centipede
Slithers like a snake
Blossoms like a flower
Passes by
As a cloud in the sky
Hops like a frog
Spatters as blood rain
Sneaks in as a breeze
Overflows like a flood
Stands firm as a rock
Tall as a cold mountain
Ravages like the plague
Eats all like a vulture
Laughs like a hyena
Sings like a thornbird
Sighs like a butterfly
Frowns like a black moth
Spins a web like the spider
Works hard like the ant
Rages like a madman
gentle as a prince of peace
a king without a kingdom
and yet everything is his
death
walks on two legs
consumes all that lives
subsumes all hopes
cremates all charity
death is a kind of eternity
in time that fools mortals
who imagine they’re
alive.

GRAVE DIGGING

June 15, 2010

Last night I dug the deepest grave,
In it I gently laid to rest my burning
Love that once blazed white bright,
Now lowered into permanent night.

I awoke with the morn and she was
there still, my Love, awake like me,
she hadn’t become blackened glass
and yet yearns my Love to be free.

THE BIRDS

June 13, 2010

She crouches silent, doe-eyed
in her silver cage of captivity
and the golden eagle she has
left behind for gleaming bars.

A smiling cat now gently strokes
her many-hued plumage, she is
his exotic electric delight, he has
her now and he laughs gleefully.

The freedom-bird now hops up
and down in the sparkling dome,
her rainbow colors can no longer
arc across radiant blue sea-skies,
home where the golden eagle flies.

The cat licks his pink chops hungrily,
observing the entrapped bird as she
changes her shape into a sparrow,
dove, parakeet, owl and swallow.

Then with a spell her shape he freezes,
now she will do whatever he pleases,
this parrot in his perfect perfect grip.

He says: “Tell me: I love you”
She says: “I love you.”
He says: “Tell me: You need me.”
She says: “You need me.”

He taps with a stick on a silver bar
and tells her: “Hop.” She does a jig
on her left leg for him, she knows
it entertains and makes him happy.
He tells her: “Dance.” She ruffles
her soft behind and dances naked.

Sometimes Master Cat is very kind,
he spoons her out of her silver hub
to hold her close and kiss her beak,
rub her neck and hip, breasts, nub,
and she is so so so so very content.

On some nights, with his permission,
she is allowed outside, clipped wings
and tippity-toes tap out a table-song
as she pirouettes to his finger-drums.

Ah, yes, now she can walk about a bit
crippled, yet “You’re walking, see?” He
won’t let her run or fly, lest he lose
her if she hitches another iffy ride,
who’ll he then, caged, sleep beside?

He has culled her beak so she can’t speak
to the golden eagle who is just a freak
who O circles O circles O circles circles O
to cry out in breaking tones “O be free!”
She replies: “But I am free and love this
cage life without end, cage without end.”

He circles, he weeps, she chirps, she sleeps,
his wings are tiring, he circles still, he weeps,
all she does is watch, the bars get stronger,
the distances in his dimming eyes get longer,
soon soon he will fall as stone from the sky,
forget all the dreams he saw from on high.

 

PRESENCES

June 10, 2010

(The Golden Asse thanks Lucius Apuleius “Africanus”)

Today god or something someone spectral –
goddess, angel, spirit, daemon, ghost-like
ancestors, perhaps (one is never certain about
the nature of haunting Presences that appear
and disappear like dewdrops or cold fireflies) –
came, tenderly whispered in my unfolded ear:

“Why seek solace among living human beings?
Why seek solace in the one you love dearly?
Seek us and you shall live forever in Eternity!”

But my ears had gone tone-deaf, the Presences
had hurt me before, spoken too loudly, tweaked
twisted them, rapped them, scarred my hearing!
Since I could not hide from their voices, I listened
and having listened, I said: ”You come again, again
to knife me, leave marks behind. I’m not the One
whose face is marred beyond recognition and said
‘yes’ to it. I am not divine, I am human. There is no
significance in the ache you swell in each one of us,
you distress me, you steal from me her presence.”

The Presences sighed. Their task is to prepare men
and women, lovers, for more suffering, to seduce
bait beguile coax entice lure persuade wheedle us
into denying the procreation of Daughter Pleasure.
If one were not to listen, they try to arrange, chart,
contrive design device pull a wire establish or sort
everything to double the torment of the un-listening.

“This,” the Presences say, “is all about becoming refined
in the Blacksmith’s fire, shaped by the Potter, tapestried
by the Master Weaver, architected by the Master Builder;
accept woundings, be slain and you’ll come forth as pure.”

I don’t want purity.

I am not that good saint
who said: “Those whom
God chooses to bless
greatly, he must first
wound deeply.”

I am Psyche
I WANT YOU
“the most meeke and sweetest beast of all beasts.”

THE BEGGAR

June 9, 2010

I am a beggar, begging is all I know
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I am a beggar, begging for roses
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I beg there may be no I tomorrow.

now I am truly truly abandoned
where there are no words no no
smiles laughter love glances help
and another laughs at my sorrow

now i no longer have good health
joy peace hope comfort support
only haplessness loneliness lost
dreams desires dungeons dung

I am a beggar, begging is all I know
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I am a beggar, begging for roses
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I beg there may be no I tomorrow

i return to my moment of birth
my mouth was a begging bowl
filled by hard nipples, warmest
milk and mother’s hot breath

that was a heaven; then earth
swallowed up me and mine,
strange waters became flood,
fires raged as stars of blood

I am a beggar, begging is all I know
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I am a beggar, begging for roses
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I beg there may be no I tomorrow

i gathered green and silver
until I met her, she was
the golden one, unreal
as smoke through a glass

i touched her pink petals,
i wandered, i wondered
she came, went, left
me as the eternal beggar.

I am a beggar, begging is all I know
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I am a beggar, begging for roses
I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg I beg
I beg there may be no I tomorrow.

SHIP APART

June 9, 2010

i’ve spun my oaken ship of life
this way and that, in the past
it’s hardened boards have held
fast in upheavals and whirlpools.

i’ve been master mariner of love,
but see there is only the sad now
wherein my dolphin-woman’s tail
vanishes up the typhoon’s funnel.

my oaken ship of life falls apart,
all my friends jumped overboard
one by one, two by two, all swam
away and left me to kindly drown.

I will not desert this ship of mine
even if the others who trimmed
the sails or set the directions are
fled in my life-boats to all-safety.

I am riding the waves, no one else
wants to soar, dive deep with me
and the singing fish that await the
fatal feast that my flesh offers all.

 

THE UNFATHOMABLE

June 4, 2010

is it enough

love is

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love is

enough it is


THE BEER SONG

May 28, 2010

dedicated to a dear friend who loved a woman to his own destruction, almost

I said: “Hey man, how is everything?
I hope you’re not a-hard-drinking.”
He said: “Everything good work-wise,
only she said no more she me loving!”

I said: “Hmm, happens man, you see
what being in love can mean or be!”
He said: “I see you are writing lots
of love poems, quotes, thoughts!”

I said: “Love, huh? I’m experimenting
with moods, hurt, passion, rejection!”
He said: “Ah, I like what you’re writing
cos I just got fucked over with loving!”

I said: “It’s ok man, never ever look back
to a woman who’s stopped loving you!”
He said: “How can someone just leave
like that? I stopped reading cos I lack.”

I said: “I’lll tell you how to erase her face
from a mind and body she’s disgraced!”
He said: “Man, I feel so terribly sad, can
she feel what it is not to be embraced?”

I said: “When she has treated you badly,
Just return the favor, treat her shittily!”
He said: “It’s all about control, she had
me naked on her lap and spanked hard!”

I said: “Hey, man, these cute college chicks
are players out for parties money tricks.”
He said: “She vowed me love many a time,
suddenly told me I was not worth a dime!”

I said: “That’s the nature of the little whore,
she played you out and fucked you sore!”
He said: “Man, I can’t get her off my mind,
I want her to realize what she did to mine!”

I said: “Man, don’t be a loser, there’s more
out there where this dancer came from!”
He said: “I am scared I’ll do something to
hurt her and me, something darksome!”

I said: “Like what? To erase her don’t think,
burn her pics, destroy all web 2.0 links!”
He said: “I want to give her a knife, and tell
her to end my life or I will do it by myself!”

I said: “Take care, friend, forget the bitch,
use that libidinal energy to ride the next!”
He said: “Let’s get that beer, I won’t hitch
a star to a cloud without rain, I’m unhext!”

 

TO BE LOVED IN THE MOMENT IN THE PRESENT

May 25, 2010

To be loved in the moment in the present is to love in the ever. To be in the moment to be loved to be present to love is the ever. To be ever is present to be loved to be in the moment to love. To love in the moment is the present to be ever to be loved. To be the moment loved to be in the present to love is the ever. In the ever in the moment to be present to love is to be loved. In the present to be loved is to love in the moment in the ever. Ever in the moment in the love to be loved is the present to be.
She was the one in the present to be loved in the ever other to love. The one in the present she was to love was the one in the other ever to be loved. Was the one in the ever to be loved to love the other who was in the present? In the other one to be loved she was the one to love in the ever present. Ever in the present was the one to be loved and then she who is the other to love. To love was the other in the present and she who is to be ever loved both together and infinite in love.
The moment and the present and she to be loved and she also to be loved and both are for ever as pillars and archways to infinite suns. She is a pillar and she the archway and the other a pillar and she as the archway and both in the present to be loved ever as infinite moment suns. In the infinite she and she in the moment and she and she also in the ever the pillars and the archways to be loved both as suns present.
Thighs are the pillars and deltas the archways between them is the moment and the present she to be loved and her to be loved in the ever. The moment and the present are to be loved and the two three four five of the ever and the sixty queens eighty concubines virgins without number the suns. The pillars and the archways between flows the wine and the wisdom of love in the moment and love in the ever.
She is the one in the present and she bows between his thighs to find the bird in the ever moment. In the present it throbs the bird in the hand trembling to fly in the moment caught in the softness of the ever. She the other moment too was in the present and her mouth ever dips between the thighs to swallow the bird trembling in her throat in the present of the softness. She and she eat fullness of love in the moment to be loved in the present to love the infinite moment of love.
To be in the moment to be loved to be present to love is the ever. The moment the present the ever to be loved as is three four five and sixty queens and eighty concubines virgins without number. In the infinite the present she and she in the moment and she and she also in the ever and the pillars and the archways are loved both as suns. She knows the one she knows the other two is one in the love of the ever wine and wisdom to be loved in the moment in the present to love in the ever never ever.

LOVE NOTES

May 17, 2010

for some, love is a picture they painted for themselves
a home a hearth a man a woman children family all well
lines angles perspectives fixed palettes lights shadows
a box full of the tools of happiness, a garden enclosed.

for some, love is a painting they purchased somewhere
the bible the koran the vedas the pedagogues pundits
galleries museums pedestals monuments photographs
they keep weighing it, was the price worth it, wasn’t it?

for some, love is an animal wild or tame leashed unleashed
fur nostrils stamping feet neighs bites scratches cuddles
tongue wetness hair fragrances smells paws claws teeth
and with primal animals, love will be cozy or catastrophic.

for me, love is a string of words floating like black swans
upon on a limpid pool full of lotuses beside green planes,
limbs lips hips thighs stomach chin cheeks wedges bums,
a stone shatters the moment, the black swans take wing.

for me, love is a string of incandescent words searing embers,
compressed together to burn white as one primordial angel
sparks flames atoms star-bursts rays sparklers glow ashes,
in a luminous inferno lives a son of man loves his myriad-bride.

 

ARROWHEAD

May 17, 2010

my arrow-head of love is sent from a burning eye,
a keen spear-beam refined even before launch
to calculate, catch the subject-object, to derive
a trajectory, field-lengths it must gracefully sail
across or many folly-heights at which it must fly,

there, amidst wild flora, gambol many loved ones,
what distance must a shot traverse to be certain
it pierces one of them in her camouflage, her mien?

i have taken the archer’s stance, my ancestor’s stance,
every field of love is an archer’s hunting ground, hunt
down the one you love, the doe with the dismal eyes,
be anchored, look up at the sky, not the doe herself,
pull taut the string, let muscles ache, pulsate and ring,
let go, let it soar, don’t doubt yourself or you will her,
your eye knows what is unleashed , let go, let strike!

she falls! you listen, you run up to her, she pants,
brush aside the undergrowth, shadows, leaves,
a body heaves, passes spasmatic through a sieve,

my arrowhead of love into her breast is gone deep,
blood seeps into my embrace, she is mine, mine!
then, you see it, legs splayed, a second wound,
the lips gasp in the dying of the day, she is clay,
nostrils flare, burning eyes aware of fatal love, close!

ABSENCE BREW

May 12, 2010

absence brews the presence of memories,
the wife you adored at first sparkling sight,
the long snaking roads of love’s lost nights.

the hush is the emptiness that is sweet fullness,
all blossoms in the night like jasmine scents,
the flowers you cannot see but can only sense.

absence is my friend wherever there is no-body,
only the imagining of curves, curious scythes,
sickles that reap the froth from leaping waves.

memory is the black hole of that which I cannot
now grasp, the spiralling into purple, watery
depths of sunlost lakes once calm, clean cool.

absence brings presence forth like locust hordes,
stronger than presence itself, there’s something
out there that makes me hungry for dust-mirages.

I have grown accustomed to presence unfolding,
I have grown accustomed to ghastly imaginings,
I have grown accustomed to flutter-by love-wings.

In absence lie presences, in presence absences,
One lies awake, the other is sinking into sleep,
dawn arrives in dusk, brew both, breathe deep.

INSIDE MY SHORTS

May 10, 2010

moonlit eyes
in the pool of the night
leap
from water sparkling
fish, laughing.
the snake
toils, coiling.
never gets
to the point.
home fires
distant glow.
the stranger
in masked attire
a cold breath blows.
she doesn’t sleep
nor do i
when she sleeps
so do i
synchronicity.

OVERFLOW

May 10, 2010

‘Think of all that you have and be happy’
said sHe to me, sHe who was sorrowful
that i walked tangled pathways of ruin.
so i sat down and thought of all that I’ve
that makes me happy and was flung into
a wishing-well overflowing with laughter.

i have the sea to walk beside, sHe rises up,
each wave turns into gentle breast swells,
her urgencies leap, recede as finger- trails
on my body, sHe hush-washes off the sand
that’d stung , clung, lacerated, bruised, bit.

i have the sky to contemplate and soar into,
her frame lies open, sHe is not easy to own
yet sHe is ajar, vulnerable, a wetness sliding
down spotted cloud-cheeks washing off hurt
and qualms, misgivings, quandraries, dilemmas.

i have my wife and children, my limbs of love,
they are forever within me and know me well,
they are the four directions that send me winds
and frolic of winged ecstasy washing off despair
and forebodings, cowardice, horrors, regrets.

i’d go on with my quaint litany of happy haves,
but I turn to the beginning, to when sHe cried,
sHe who was sorrowful that i walked tangled,
‘think of all that you have and be very happy’,
so I came to my well overflowing with laughter.

ONE OCEAN

May 9, 2010

under the madding waves lie our crystal seas,
flitting beautiful rainbow fish and glass clarity,
my dearest, it is all calm and clear; if sometimes
a squid comes by and releases its jet-black ink,
it dispels fast, the gloom becomes a green light,
down in the depths where the waves are stilled,
you and I enjoin as seas to become one ocean.

WHERE ARE YOU NOW, ANAIS NIN, MY LOVE?

May 8, 2010

Where are you now,
Anais Nin, my love?
Where are you when
I need you so much?

You would have known
and undressed me,
like no other woman,
you’re not the women
I have loved, or sadly
loved me I imagined.

I am a dog that scrambles
around skirts for crumbs,
wags my tail, bow wow wow,
dances upon one left foot,
fetches the new newspaper,
circles around my mistresses,
chews upon thrown bones,
smiles when I am nice-kicked,
licks feet, sweet round asses,
my premium is utter loyalty,
my premium is faithfulness,
and when they finally decide
to put me to sleep, even then
my eyes say soft thank-yous.

Where are you now,
Anais Nin, my love?
Where are you when
I need you so much?
You would ‘ve fucked
me like you did Henry,
rock rocked me to sleep.

I miss you for you knew
words are not words,
but the body’s love-juices.

LOVE IS THE BODY

May 8, 2010

in one sharp stark apocalyptic moment
she withdrew her silken body from mine
and pushed my dark body away from her

a hand’s breadth in time preventing
breaths that will no more touch free

and she said she loves me loves me
love had become distances distant
a whisper, a ghost, a breeze uncaught,
a thought, a lonely road, a dead flower.

she wants me to embrace a death-angel,
an ethereal love, an idea, a dream-crow,
things in the air that leave no nail traces,
manifestation, caresses, no sense-burns.

But
my love lies in the body

But
love is the body

If your body is not there, I want nothing,
I will be there to help, carry the weights,
I will be there to listen, listen to the sighs,
I will be there to talk, to flicker on-screen.

But I promise you, I will not be there upon
in around entwined across your silver body
to be a body-chain you will unhappily wear.

I cannot love the love that is without the body.

NO MORE

May 7, 2010

no

MORE!

no

MORE!

sing

song

bird
in
its
invisible
cage

from
still
eyes

stares.

.

SHIP OF SORROW

May 5, 2010

My mast is shattered
My oars are broken
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

My ballast is no more
My planks are rotting
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

I lie across the dark bow
I sleep in its wet bottom
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

I spin aimless aimlessly
I turn in the dead calm
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

The sky doesn’t speak
The stars do not guide
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

Screaming gulls encircle
Purple fish brightly leap
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

I am hungry and cold
I am thirsty, I in-fold
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

In my last port of waiting
sHe said “Come sate me”
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

But when I set sail again
sHe chose to sail away
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

I see the wreck ahead
I see the dank shoals
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

I see the bottom fall out
I see a body drop down
Do you know where
My ship of sorrow leads?

The night-octopus comes
Ship and sailor are gone
sHe will never learn how
my ship of sorrow leads.

CITY WITHOUT WALLS

May 4, 2010

my body is a city without walls,
all may enter in, all may go out,
traverse my arterials and veins,
my by-lanes and alleys, rape me,
loot and plunder all that is within.
take from me my joys, happiness,
sorrows, aches, sighs, woundings,
pluck it all out, go into my nights
that sly demons despair to haunt.

take this red flower and dissect it,
drink me, spit into damp eye-pools
that wonder, wait, watch, witness
what becomes of this strange city
without walls, pillage it now, see
an inner map long undecipherable,
a miracle, life teems, i’m not ruins
yet, layer calls unto layer in love,
so, enter, try not to destroy me.

RIVER AND LONELY ISLETS

May 3, 2010

I am flowing where this love is flowing,
I’m a river, teeming, traveling, toiling,
I embrace you as I go, O lonely islets,
I surround, woo, caress you, I enfold,
I lap gently at your sand-edges, engulf,
I spill sperm of life into your warm inlets,
I fulfil desires, all wants, gesture-needs,
I send wavelets, they fall hot teardrops
from your eyelashes, I am fecund juices,
I rise and I fall, I soften, I harden fast,
I enter and exit, salsa, twist, jive, waltz,
I am turning, I lash and stroke, I roll roll,
I reflect passion-rays and their settings,
I am water-bed you sleep upon, I wash,
I bathe, come under and over, up, down.
I gift you flora and fauna, I am perfume,
I am shrapnel of lights and flame of dusk
I am storms, I am jealous, I rage, I cry,
I laugh and rejoice, O my islets of love,
I am, I will be, I was, I run, I leap, I fulfil,
I smooth your wrinkles, I uplift sad chins,
I look into fear-eyes, I give what it takes,
I look for returns, my rivulets are birthed,
I send out my self, my rain fills the clouds,
I reach wet fingers out, cool the hot brow,
I’m rapids, I flow, I am an enemy of thirst,
I am long in my love, longer than shadows,
I am a snake with many tubular song-limbs,
I trill as I spill, I kill, I unleash the flood-thrill,
I am lover, friend, healer, I am spirit-forms,
I am the one who always sidles beside you,
Always inside, behind around, and I burst,
I blur, the borders of both seas and shores,
I am forever entwined as one with you, O,
I am river and lonely islets, sewn together.

 

 

 

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