only
of you, no other, only
you, this time, this year, this moment, this pastgonefuturepresent, ask I
love me, let me love you, let us become, be, blossoms
let us!
Letter to her #2
Grainy image, eyes deceiving,
luring
innocence like sugary drops of peach bite, I
looked and fell like Alice into the White Rabbit hole, freely
maniac with lashes deep scars gouged out soul, hollowed leer of desire, I
wafted upon the unintended words of invitation, not welcoming the Monster, rather
Hero, wishing me the hero, fighting dragons, slaying Minotaurs, defiling priests of
patriarchal violence, slaughter of innocence, hers, come I
drawn, defeated, fatten lamb of slaughter long overdue for final oblation to the angry Father, I
siren called by her eyes too innocent for my bloodied soul my fouled breath, Satan’s son am, I
yearning hurting pleading, Come to me O Sister! Daughter of the Goddess. Caged am, I
I I I I have treasures for you, gifts, dark pearls with astral auras that bewilder astound, I
lonely broken scarred worthless ejaculate of the Mad God of Cruelty, I
a reject from the horde of Conquerors, Slayers, Murderers I am them, their hero, not yours, I
beg your indulgence, a minute, no a second, please, just a nanosecond, a cosmic blip, I
implorebegbeseechgroanmoanwhimper, Love me! Lovememelovemelovemelovelove, I
love you, unknown, simply scented, arrow pierced by digital image, I
am your lover, ever, here, present, ready, I
love you, I
Letter to her #3
How do I tell her, listen! Hear me, tell
her
this woman with ears alert to mythic rhythms, dying
dripping blood, heart gouged, booty of mad raping brothers, dying
so at her knees I lay my bow, arrows askew, waiting her
final breath
whisper “I am here,” as promised, eons, dimensions, life times ago, I
all sorrow tear grief howl screech rise to proclaim,
She is my beloved!
Dying her every breath I breathe, cell
I kiss with loving abandon, I linger
upon her forgetfulness of my valor, death
by dragon’s breath on planets long obliterated, I
love her more than I know myself, she is my life, life giver
her,
blessed among all that dance the cosmic dance to the harmony of the spheres, I
her slave servant gardener lover scribe worshipper, she
even now unfolding, mysterious, magical, amazing, lips pursed for slight kiss, I
bloom like desert flower upon April's cruel arid rains, just a drop, I
mere seed to her egg of cosmic love, She she her Her, all
Mother of All
Sister of All
Lover of All
blessed be she,
I praise her, you
woman, in you around you through you madness of fierce desire, I
but flame to your boundless cauldron of amazing loving, heat unsurpassed, melting, I
am yours, now, forever, past, present, future, forever.
Love you I me us we.
Mornings
There are mornings when I catch it just right
time when the puddle lingering with nightly dew is clear, quiet
a moment when the denizens of night have retired
those of the coming day yet unawake
at such time the puddle is mirror glass, merely a shimmer
belies its depth, the tumultuous activities of the tinniest
for which it is a living host, but not this moment,
this moment it is simply itself
Your face comes to me like this puddle
at the moment I cease to see you
to place upon you the face I want you to have
when you cease to comply with me and turn
shoo away the past and the future and are still, looking-glass
then it is clear, then it is quiet
then it is that we puddle, are
magic mirror, waiting, present and calm
simply ourself as one, this morning
[October 16, 2003]
55 minutes be gone!
Lunch is on the soul today
a menu of shortened delights
a stop-go kiss of peck and not-yet
an order of longing to be your drink, stirred
with feverish ice
the special of the day: a winked temptation of later-on!
and do we want dessert so asked without question mark
ha! you spy the clock which in its mercy has
allotted
this set-time of visitation for torturing the hunger
endlessly unslacked unsated
by quickie snacks ever so fervently nipped and nibbled
leaving crust, only, remnants of our heart
foretelling "Lunch, again, tomorrow?"
[October 24, 2003]
Blackthorne
into the woods simple
fare of sight-seeing
adventuresome lovers taking
time out seeking their own
time less
clock ticking
hearts yearning souls hands
onto each other tangled
by black-thorn stab bleeding
past-lovers droplets
of desire sweat piercing
their hearts throb flash
embrace in fear eternal
dying, dying fear fearlessly
kiss they, mere kiss they strike
a thorn droplet of inner blood
brooding breeding blossoming
their hearts now one
September 19-20, 2003
Inverness Park, Blackthorne Inn
Celebration – Once Again
1.
I celebrate you
a seeker of buried treasure
long-patient, sporting the scars and bruises
of jagged rocks and perilous declines
a sunburnt spirit in sere thirst of desert, bedecked
in morn rise with dewy blooms
upon moonrise you peer and leap beyond the winking stars
unfolding dreams of relentless driving desire
to touch the buried treasure that hides within
2.
I celebrate you
storyteller of the heart’s sweet yearnings
upon whose flesh all is written but without repent
unedited & uncensored offerings of
tales trials tributes, ah, comic relief!
3.
I celebrate you
whose absence provokes steady desire
whose lost scent upon the air evokes steady desire
whose smeared lip upon the flute unwashed evokes steady desire
whose unintended slip of slender thigh evokes steady desire
whose dried markings on books shared evokes steady desire
whose closed eyes wakening in farthest room evokes steady desire
whose imprint pressed upon my soul evokes steady desire
whose promise of endless advenutre evokes celebration beyond steady desire
[Monday, October 27, 2003]
Moonstone flesh wakes
deliciously unaware
of embrace delirious
lingering
upon the breath of morn's
kiss
What Is To Be Done?
Our life together could not be less simple,
less complicated than any relationship you have ever had.
It is merely a basket of full moments. None lost. None drifting away in boredom or lack of attention. No. Just the unhurried consistent fullness of desire. For every moment
savoring the other moments of your presence. Every molecule of your flesh.
Coming into your presence in a Now which marks not time, waits not for dinner at a fine restaurant, wants not to be diverted by Monday Night Football, simply exalts in the mere presence of the shadow of your hair. Such is it, and it shall always be.
You as the shadow of my soul. Me as the smile upon your cheeks.
You as the comfort of embrace. Me as the soother of your aching sole.
These are days of such harsh conscious awareness. Of the fear
of missing you in a turn of distraction. Of the craving desire to behold you upon every level.
Such will in time relent; submerge itself into the dream. The dream which is the forever of us. Forgotten how we have been together from a forever Moment. Dreaming.
You are my dream. You are dream.
Dreaming are you as such me and we.
It is the free fall into the trust of the delight of our embrace beyond conscious intent.
What is to be done?
It is the attending to you, the separateness of you
the completeness of you
empty spaces and bombastic thrill of you
the song of you, tempo and rhythm
melody
the wait upon you, late as always
laughter
of delight of unwordable words, my failures
all praise of you, praising you
adoring you, and so myself
for it is the new self, this Other
which is to be done
created, birthed
from the simplest of breaths: I love you
I love you
forever: now
beyond kiss embrace coupling
knowledge desire
just you
you
(loveyouimewe)
this, to be done
[Thursday, November 13, 2003]
Ab initio
I first saw you today but
lies I lie I saw before ovum sperm
entering into the gate the maw the cunt of
prison
a message left tagged to my ass like stray TP
she has come what was I to say stripped naked 8867147
understand I understood nothing still don’t yet her
what am I to say but only sleep came on iron cot when
her fingers still infant touched my face, tears like her laughter to
father mother lovers years on end come to me dry gulch
aching
there is no relief, relentless are the shadow gods and goddesses sucking
sperm from my pinkie drawing fetuses unto murder, death like kisses
these are my nights, no days, no sunlight, shine, nothing, anal fucking of
my soul
yet I walk into the Visitor’s Room knowing her there like babe in
stranger’s arms
waiting, ever waiting, eons passing, eons long past she
my heartbeat, “Mama” I groaned, word that slices me like
jailhouse bars, thick but ever so cutting, cruelty of Nazi lore she
there at the gas chamber, I sucking air, fetid, dying as child
she wet her diapers, pleased by the pleasure of it all,