Poetry – Page 23 – Theater of Sorrows

Thine

Significant Stall Sign Sincerely Savored

I stepped through it… guarded footsteps sliding through the grey-black, filmy veil –
Wordless, breath in slow reverse, heart drumming to soul dancing… A meeting of self, and… Spirit…
It was a dream I’d tried to capture for a thousand celestial moons –
Drag with me through the hazy, fuzzy, viridian fog of moonlight visions becoming mourning evaporations –
Mirrored in sleepy pupils; Achromatic soft skeletons, too flimsy to contain such an exquisite rapture
This dimension of infinite softness, like an angels wings, wispy unfurlings, come to cloak me in myself…
The sempiternal knowledge that…

-Truth is not a fact. It is a theory, born from a singular experiencer of an experience –

An undreamt treasure; The supercelestial recognizing that this is the circular essence of my being –

And

All Roads Lead To Home…

And eventually all human matter falls away –
Skin from bones, blood from veins, mind from brain, breath from lungs…
Ashes in the bittersweet wind; a molasses spiral toward heaven, gossamer flakes of what will become –
And what has been…
A metal circle in spiral –
This unyielding cage spitting time into softness where our bones finally rest, as the metamorphosis begins –
A dilution… of errors, grievances, harms, all shades of weariness and corruption –
These things have gone, carried away in gentle arms of the compassionate weeping; dahlia archangels
Carried away, over the river of tranquility by graceful Luna moths fluttering; Hush… hush…
Let the sky cry with the brokenhearted. Let its thunder drown their pain.
Let it all fall away
Look into your own eyes, witness the unfolding of your rusted mysteries, of your silvery starlight…
Come to me my sweetness, my darling, my beauty –
Imperfect perfection
Perfect imperfection
Jeweled adornment bursting into hypnotizing flame, rutilant wildfire; Myself… Spirit… united… Thyself –
Thine
This undreamt heaven a silky, pillowy kiss, nuzzling my heart to beat, urging my withered eyes to dream…
The mechanics, a blueprint not necessary so much as the will to open the triangular doors of the soul
Let heavens filament in… its gentle, silvery strings wrapping round your being…
To transcend
To birth new breath
To inspire new stars
To whisper against your ear, like a lovely lover
This… is yours… who you are when the membrane is pulled away…
When all cartilage between light and shadow tears, fractures, to repair the brutal dissection of yin and yang
Diaphanous, celestial fusion becomes, is all, tangible and intangible –
A fragrant abstract… consummated into

Wholeness

Ever yours, despite distance and dimensions

Sage Mourning

Pale, cool skin
Your heart settling into its finality, its eternal sleep
I sink into the aftermath, submerge into the soft fluidity of your breath –
I lay here, fingers stretching to grasp the last of your shadow
Breathing in your fading scent of sweet bark and cherries, booze and rusted metal
Remembering the taste of your whiskey-soaked mouth
The thrum of your leather-clad heart
During those nights of sugared, psychedelic madness beneath a pregnant moon –
Where we reached into that midnight sky and sliced her open
Laughing as her luminosity slid from that plump belly
To drench us in lacy, lusty froth
Ardor born from demons and angels
Melting like hot chocolate foam as our bodies collided and struck fire to the hillside –
In each place we tumbled…
As we kissed each others sweet spots
A tangle of sex, wrapped up in a cocoon of passion-fire red
Moving in tandem anticipation, rough and sweet, heavenward
And I called your name in wonder, raked it into my skin with daggered fingernails
Thrilled to be your flame; Crow to your Raven
Aching to pull you deeper into my hunger
Mad with fury at my inability to devour every bit of you
Mind, soul, heart, skin, blood, bone –
To quench this infernal longing of this damned, beautiful view
Glowing like molten metal, those lion eyes of yours –
Restless orbs that stripped me naked, doused me with furious anger, soothed me with love
As we unfolded… our genesis written by the ancient weavers of time and destiny
Bone needles and thread, earthen clay, fire and water crashing into lightening –
One thousand answers in smoky layers, wafting in honey-stained wind, carried to the mountains –
To settle, to name each gorgeous chaos of our tumultuous crashing
We were born to become
We were doomed to fall away
You with your catastrophic love of death
Me with my foolish love of absolution
And, prolific poetic mourning over loves death becomes loquacious
But if I write of how your long, wild hair kissed the air as you danced –
Feather-fringed eyes skyward with reverence and gratitude
How you smelled like sage after coming in from your morning prayers
Serene and rooted from raven visions of the elders on the Red Road…
If my fingers divine some semblance of poetic order from this chaotic disarray
I can relinquish this anguish on my terms –
Word… by word… by word…
Write my grief while your current flows through my fingers
Write my loss while your words dance in my mind
Write my love while your spirit still lingers –
Warm against my skin; a fleeting sacred valentine
Flowery moonrise through my bleak-windowed eyes –
All those succulents that our love reaped; I watch our lonely garden sow
I hear your voice among the trees and know you’ve found your haven

I just wish that crow could soar with raven

Layers

I was your vessel
Your hands reaching… into… me… your fingers squeezing
I oozed between them, soft, pale, earthen clay
From dirt where the bones have no sorrow
Your therapy
A divine intervention
I soothed your calloused places. Your hands… fingers… mind…
Spirit…
That lived in Desolation Alley, back behind Torment Avenue, between Despair Street and 13th
Turning left on Despair, the trees whispered here, their gnarled arms scratching…
At your clothing, your arms and face, tangling in your wild hair
But with no vacancy in the rooms in your wretched mind, tranquility couldn’t check in –
Sanctuary denied… run down, cluttered, damaged, rusted, burned to the ground, ashen, smoky ruins raining…
Nuclear winter in the summer
And so you conjured… scooped me from the fleshy earth and blessed me with river water
Pressing me into form, you created curves from my lines, pounding with lions fists on days of frustration
Your rage hammering my soul, while the crows watched through the dirty alley windows
Squawking eerie metaphors for life, destruction, and death that ricocheted against the glass –
The raucous debate like ghosts in metal armor, with their fragments of truth in weapon form
Spitting at the wispy panes, launching a storm of tiny cracks
That let the chatter seep, to climb the crumbling plastered walls, and spread like a spider web, sticky sweet –
A bandage waiting for your dire shadow
Should it free its churning, anguished assemblage from your acidic bones, as you sat hunched over the table
Kneading, coiling, mashing – molding your doing into my being –
My eyes into chasms to hold your pain
My mouth into promiscuous to sear your body
My mind into carnage to suffer your desolation
My spirit into submission to embrace your havoc
Manifestations of the dark side of the moon; Angels in limbo and demons in torment
Oh how time does erode…
You scrape at my layers and they curl as they fall away. Soft and cool, pliable, musky, of the earth…
And I become
A silent amulet that speaks every language
Soft and sweet, low and murky, loud and ferocious, calm and pure. Melodic passion, soul sex…
A salve to soothe a lost, devastated heart – decimate its terrors with pure, unwavering fidelity
As the moon parts the dark sky, your pain pours through your frenzied fingers
Strong appendages that lovingly push, fold, caress me – my mud carcass soothing under your nails
Time settles in your pores and rests there, waiting for you to dust it away
You assess me with ancient eyes, pupils like amethyst oracles
My earthiness permeates your nostrils, and you slowly inhale the scent of me, eyes closed in communion
You dip me in the river water, smooth my slippery skin with roughened fingertips, pressing gently
Where you desire a sweet spot
A desolate, melancholy contentment threaded in a trace of a smile, and the crows tap at the windows
Weathered beaks biting, arching wings in raptured agreement as I am finalized. My purpose becomes clear.
Your vessel… amulet… earthen conception… structure of sorrows, to still your torturous madness
Your demons and your pain – that breaks even the hardest of hearts and invites the tearless… weep…
An impression… patterns of wretched, haunting, heinous wrongdoings… placed –
Centered in my sweet spot, where my gentle embrace folds them
Within
So that you can finally sleep