Scripture

Thank you so much, to those whom have taken the time to read my work. I’ve only shared my writing with a handful of people, so this experience has been life changing. You are all so gracious, supportive and have shown me that my work has a place in the world. And that means everything to me. Now if I could only figure out how to format so that my poems would show up looking how I want them to look… 🙂

Sprouted Swirled Silky Sky

I am severed from the world; I am the pale
Not the dark with its coagulated tentacle appendages, nor the light with its placenta Amaranth aspirations
I am severed from myself; Suffering the inertia of young skin sucked from its bones –
Innocence like a gelatinous knot slurped through the gapped, woolen teeth of mockery
Irrevocably estranged from existence, too grotesque for my own shadow, it moans like a ghost haunting disappointment
A nest of silkwood threads in my chest and I… I dismally built my armamentarium of woe…
You are my scripture
Warm skin sacred against my tear-stained, lonely cheek
An invocation from passages of a well-worn, celestial tome –
Each chapter –
Parched words that search for divine meaning
Countless revisions on loose pages –
A metaphor for my yearning soul adrift…
The archeology of my freezing winters –
This manuscript of illusions and allusions –
The mythology of self…
You are my interpreter
Spinning a silvery web of my illustrations into tangible narratives that free my shadow –
Give it a name and a reverence so sweet that it breaks the moons heart, spilling molten tears…
Your primeval, eastern eyes are endless caverns holding my ancient, mystical secrets –
Vessels that keep them safe
When fear and premonition salivate –
Splitting the silence into bones
You turn the stones in my leeched soil
Plunging flame into my darkness
With hymn and drum, oath and poetic annotations, roots and sanctuary…
You anoint and minister to my fallacies, self-fulfilled prophecies, irrational absurdities
As I whisper my demons into your ear, blow my haunts between your lips –
At your dulcet, incantatory invitation, while petting my hair gently
You are my witness
The one looking through the ghost
To find the person
To caress the molecules, secretions, membranes, tendons, blood and bone
All of the cuts, cracks, breaks and holes, indentations and deformities, twisted, rusted, wired, stapled wounds…
Fragility in vulnerable, aged form
Like a creeping creature cautiously eyeing the dread on the moon…
Corrosion biting blistered fingers that long to trace your musky arches, angles and planes
Seduce you in this love-stained Eden; This succulent elixir of demons and angels…
You are my cosmic kiss
Lips purring and pressing moonflower runes down the curvature of my spine
Our exodus fragrant like lilies and camphor…
Wafting through the narrow magnet-space between us
Until skin seduces skin, its fleshy ions dovetailing, twisting and crashing like a scorching waterfall sparkler
3 realms unfolding to meld together; Mind, heart, soul
We become the twilight –
Blanketing the earth with our perfumed euphony
Until our indesinent ascension —
Our tumescent flame…

Lights the sun

Something a Bit Different II…

There is a custom where canoes in the ocean are paddled into a formation. In silence, leis are placed gently in the water, setting them free. In devotion, hands thrash the water as wailing is offered to the sky. When I was in my thirties, violence tore someone away from me, twice. The second time the loss was permanent. I wrote this as an offering of my pain, acceptance, and understanding that eventually time would erode the bitter and replace it with the sweet. And for the most part, it has. Loss is a shared experience that is unique to each of us. And so, I say – Siempre.

Yearning

Emerald City Grey

I will go there quietly –
To the deep blue water
Although raging deep inside
And I will rest there floating –
Thoughts of you
Drifting with the tide
I will lay your flowers gently
Watch them sway and move away from me
As you have gone, I have gone –
Into this raw cocoon I have withdrawn
And my head bowed, my hands open
I will slap the water with my grief
My hands thrashing, churning
With devotion
My fury at your leaving does not want relief
My palms will crash with fierceness
Against the ocean’s armor
My hands stinging
My heart burning
My whole being… Yearning
This pain won’t be a permanent
Song toward your memory
It will fade to be replaced
By flowing warmth
Eventually
But I reserve the right, in this moment
To writhe and moan, wail and cry
To not give you up so easily
To be incensed by this rending goodbye
To howl like an animal
And hiss like the wind
To scream like a banshee
To curse this place I’m in
And my head bowed, my hands open
I will slap the water with my grief
My hands thrashing, churning
With devotion
My fury at your leaving does not want relief
My palms will crash with fierceness
Against the ocean’s armor
My hands stinging
My heart burning
My whole being… Yearning