It’s not the life that you lamented
The stillborn dreams you half invented
Yet still you smile as one demented
On a bower of withered flowers
The crescent sickle swings in descent
Reaping the golden stalks you sent
Straining toward the firmament
While wailing women mark the hour
She who smiled and called you lover
Cut you down and took another
Who means your death but calls you brother
And heaven knows he speaks the truth
In exile from that sacred thing
Of which lovers sigh and minstrels sing
Retrace your path as fisher king
Back to the castle of your youth
When we men voyage to spiral castle
We’re not her lord we’re just her vassal
And she really doesn’t need the hassle
Attendant to the role of wife
We mourners cry but we dissemble
When Kore passed the earth did tremble
But in your wake we just assemble
Keening at the gates of life
So winter comes the movie’s ended
And just as though our hearts were mended
Our awareness is extended
In the whirr of the machine
And whether scars do fade or linger
I’m not the one to point the finger
Not the song I’m just the singer
In an opera of might-have-beens.
Blue sky flies above
but I, with head bowed
walk under the sun who throbs
as insects drum
feeling the heat
mosquitoes hum
menacing
They guard my love
Sting, draw blood,
but I don't care!
Sweet, wild love waits
here, there, somewhere
My eyes are searchlights
they pierce tall grass
peer faithfully
for the promised
Tell-tale glow
at last! A ruby winks
near my big toe
nose first, fingers bent
head and knees bow
eager – reverent
we touch - trembling
Treasure – sweet and deep
aroma overcomes
intoxicates me
We comingle
in the pine and clover
with my blood and sweat
Let mosquitoes hum
it's not done yet!
A warm soft ruby
on my tongue
fatal sweet explosion
and more to come!
Tiny Beauties
bursting inside me
giving ---
enormous pleasure
sweet --- tart
miracles of joy.
Bare arms unsheathed
upheld
fingers flash,
articulated jewels,
emerald,
mauve,
chartreuse
sun splayed through each,
each
limb carved, curving in
a
r
a
b
e
s
q
u
e
s
of abandon.
Bend your sinuous heads
earthbound
skyward
locking arms
lifting breasts
leafing out
seed staccato
doing the dance
of vines.
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'In an opera of might-have-beens.'