A poem straight out of a dream. As I later interpreted it's about my break off from the threads that held me with the past. The city, the origin. I'm zooming out, I'm moving on. Time goes by and the past becomes blurry. It's inevitable yet I can't help but feel a certain sadness.
"I can’t peel you off my body. You’re like a rain soaked dress Sticking to the twists and turns of my torso." Beautiful erotic imagery. "Surrounded by a pale mist of a blue chilling desert. And a humming silence. Somewhere at the depth of the horizon Rewinding. Penetrating time, distance and visions. Curious glass bubble dome bursts. I tilt my head and wake up in tears." Love the mystical expansivness too...
Millions of neurons shout at me, Zigzagging through the membrane. Rolled back the eyes from the Excessive levels of dopamine. If we could not speak, Telepathy will have to do. Syringe pricks the epidermis, Deploys foreign elements into the stream. Angel nurses aimlessly flutter above, While demigod doctor went out to smoke. Muscle spasms, migraine, I shake and stutter, Wince at the malicious light. But you are here and I can’t mind. Blood transfusion complete. I lick your left cranial lobe and sigh. Make love in the pharmaceutical shrine. Drain my electricity To revive you, Before we both flat line.
Always thankful for the newness of your work. May your giving and receiving circulate, as tides breathing, between the shores of your attentions.
I’m tired of being a heretic, Of not having a personal deity. A savior who’d knock on my window Or tumble down the chimney. Halos are always in style, So I’m considering drastic change. Some mind boggling alteration Of personality. Or maybe a bit of mental bondage. I am interested in Hinduism. They’ve got funky, jazzed up shrines. Buddhism can teach me how to hum, While Christianity just seems dull. But I’d like to just be an individual, With freedom to decide. Without having someone’s faith, Have me locked in and confined. In any case organized religion is Like organized crime. Bogus mass intentions, That solicit for time. Mind trips down the spiritual line Lead to dead end questions And offer a questionable divine.
Yes to everything and nothing. Seek the technology and the essence of all. Have faith in your experiences. Belief needs a solid foundation of direct perception. How does one polish the mirror. Religion is, as one dear to me has said, Realization of Self.... and then allowing the techniques to drop away. We are always alone in our unique radiance.
Thank you for reading and always offering such interesting insight which keeps me on my toes and has my wheels turning.
KX, just had to quote the whole thing... that was wonderful! To me, it's like a computer's stamping out the sentences as I go along, no unnecessary words, sharp scientific images, and the powerful emotion builds up to that great ending. This is def. one of my faves from you...
some lights are meant for blinding. some haloes are nooses awaiting the proper moment to jerk. some f00ls are the unwitting messiahs of propaganda. ask thy lover for a reply, and when there is none forthcoming, divinity will have paid thee a silent visit, and blessed you with the will to go on. much love
lol. it's funny that you say that- i was thinking of that song when i wrote those lines.... I was just going to quote meynard, but I couldn't remember the exact words off-hand and did not want to profane the reverend's delicate virtuosity. much love
*grins like a cheshire cat* Maynard is a great inspiration to many of my pieces. -And not to pull your halo down, around your neck and tug you to the ground-
"but i'm more than just a little curious how you plan to go about making your amends... to the dead..."
Frozen, my slim frame throbs. Unsheathed the bulky daily uniform. I hid behind the pale curtain, Turned the valve to let the water roam. First unpleasant seconds, As pouring heat collides with ice, Painting goose bumps on the empty canvas. Stiffness melting, evaporating steam Opened my mouth To let my tongue play with droplets. Warmth kissed me blushing, Licked my neck and shoulders, Breathed upon my eyelids, Rubbed against the foamy form. Blissfully soft and calm, Heat panting and alive, My skin thaws, Water braids, tangles hair. Inner smile curves lips, I’m reborn, liberated and bare, Welcoming, Smelling of ginger and white tea.
I love ginger. The whole poem is powerful, beautiful and without any hint of remorse. The intimacy of water as it seeks, embraces and departs.
can't believe I forgot to post this one... Sharpening their utensils. Watch out for the cherry blood! Don’t spatter, splatter All over my starched pearl arms. My body, a dart board My heart, a bull’s eye. Amusement for the nauseous. I think, I’ve had enough. So I tip toed away on the parapet, I innocently stabbed in the dark, One step at a time. Cleansed, my polluted, dilated pupils With green shades of electric light. Burst into short snorts of laughter, Bathed in adrenaline sweat. No harm done, yet. But I startled them, Look on their faces – priceless! Made a mockery out of concern, As they put up their signs: Forbidden! Warning! Stop! Am I getting too close? You’re not one to be faint of heart. Watch me do a flip. Flop! They winced and pined away. I. Yes. It was me. Who Made travesty of their spectacle. Then I broke their spines, their tongues, their knives, their wisdom. And spread their ashes of memories all over the dusty cement. I was never careful, What a lousy acrobat.
And now, (so important, this now) those ashes you breathe. And now, (so important its nonexistant) their disease you seethe. And now, (eternity sees) eternity is blind. much love
I doodled on the bathroom mirror With steam and lipstick. Out of boredom perhaps, Or maybe scheming an escape, But I’m no Alice And I’m still stuck on my side of the glass. And I wanted to conjure up my fortune In the morning coffee residue. All I could see was black mush, While cups and dishes piled mountain, Clanked in the kitchen sink. I’ve lost all my mental notes, The ones I arranged last night. Letter was left unwritten, Phone call un dialed, Promises unfulfilled I know, I will be penalized. I don’t want anything this morning, Everything I want is unattainable Everyone I begin to miss, manages to get away. Is it my luck or is it a conspiracy? But I’m aware, Recognized that even my mistakes were in vain. And I’ll fade out from family photographs Ideals are too burdensome anyway.
