Poetry Strewn Along Life's Pathways Read online

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  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,