scratching on glass

Specialist Green with Posture

Jealous of mad oranges lingering
kaleidoscopic within your opal mind,
transcendance is a word, awakenings
that linger on my soul sin, one by one
where angels into madness fly and from the distance fall
like peels in mango shadow across a glitter sun
while clouds split thick
between your changing eyes

she jacks off cream in coffee, how it burns
luminous in rags, she cursed the moon
electric light across a barren star
twiddling misfortunes in the dark;
rapes, she coils, twists, she squirms
flickering in starlight serenade
the boundarilessness limits
that she yearns

But I could be her,
want her, need her, even Love;
lick honey from her thighs where she’s an lie
an empty page; an echo trapped inside
while on an emerald hill, an angel cries.
In dreamtime wonder, a serenade of stars
seducing, breaks the heart; bangs the lie.

Not to crave confetti diced
from spiral blue parade
streaks atmosphere electric, brute cafe
erasing: closure seven shades of grey;

One for every time the soul wound over
In cleverness, thick as moss on graves.

Ebonwing

I thought that it was snow. I only felt
a swirling vortex. Shifting. Coming down
blackly wrapped in light. I held it there
descended to the frozenness. Its touch
dark as fallen angels, grey as bone
persuaded to do nothing more than stand.

Fast came the clouds, and yet I could not move
so timeless was the storm that holds me still;
From what abyss comes this? From what despair?
In wretched night to find reflected there.
Enshrouded in a darkling fog, a love,
black as fallen angels, cold as bone,
within its depths, that bid me death to fly.

Yet what knew I of flight, a wingless thing?
And as the moment of it settled down,
a wretched sound determined from my throat.
Preened and scattered fast that I might light
and rise a flame within this frigid dark
to overwhelm this boundlessness. My eyes,
consume the thing that simply isn't snow,

A thousand fallen angels pale as bone,
spread their wings and ravenscrape the stars,
while ash surrenders from a smouldered sky;
As ember ice consumes my feathered breast:
You lie, you lie, you lie, you lie, you lie.

Thelchateria

ruined faithful, I siren
from the back seat of a taxi
the diapason of dark persuasive; I

on aeolian boulevard muse forth
fumbling swans through avenues of Stygian light.

Unfurling the gothic city in heat
and burn to your flesh as one; I

discord tones of violins pitched
fashion insinuating bridges
and watch you come undone.

My Persephonic seed
bruises blooming
you into hypnotic gesture;

rusing sisters within
concubines of the unfaithful;
whores, moons and mothers; I

wild iris, flourishing beyond
tangle your ivy with thorn
join in song; twisting you

while they finger us in love
conquering your sum.

Daphne in Apocatastasis
Mutando Perde Figuram

Transubstantiate into the river
Plunging beneath the shade of the tree
Afterlight dream within sacred sound
Lean over leaning, eyelid to ground
With hands whispering secrets and stars profound
Over me
Over me
Over me

Olive branch yearning with laurel and ribbon
A bronze ball, golden, gleams from above
From river, a latent angel is screeching
From tree, the hand of a cat in reaching
From within she awakens: "Say it is so.
Make it real, Enscribe it. Prophesy. Know."
Eros is poetry, Woman creation
Pygmalion's statue, The woman the poem
The Goddess is Buddha
Buddha the Goddess
That which is, we are; ebb and flow
The dance without dancing, song without tune
Love beyond symbol, spirit or word
Transforms the tree who caresses the moon
Sings strong from the shade, these flowers unheard

Alchemized gold refines in her fires
Burning in burning without frost or flame
Flexible, fluxible mutant desire
Light from the ashes arise without shame
Phoenix ascending eclipses from birth
Ten thousand essences glittering night
Faceted, regal, pristine, unearthed
Explosions of color transcend upon light
He becomes Laurel; She barefoot dances
Sublimation, the unravished bride
Rouses the moon, unfolding from trances
Transcending the sun descending inside

Now she is Mother, the Goddess arising
Naked in foam beyond egon sea
Now she is Mother, the whore rapt in scarlet
Metamorphosing into a tree
Art becomes Sarcophagus, rises
Kaleidoscope words; She becomes me.

Cornflower

Centaurea cyanus; A perennial

fireflies misbehave

in unlit fields

stalks swelling long

towards heaven

Whited wisps of milk

weed the air

wait and wander

wantonly

Moths pop

frenzied

in blue light;

seven year locusts

siren from trees

sinking ancient vessels

sheets surrender

to priaptic poles

flailing wild with wind

their hunger unforgettable

maya, I am

reading time by apples

ceded from exhaustive

reason

surrendering to soul

I Desire Light on Naked Stone

I desire light on naked stone

smoke blue fire, milky with white ebb

edged in silver undulating swirls

a gothic half dead nymph with seven veils

in slow, distorted ,vortexed silver tide.

Recompense these sins in sacrifice

quarter me until the dyings done.

Andromeda beneath the light of you

sanctify the chains of earthly wrongs

decrescent with the dying crimson night.

Shine as if the light would never end

lain before the judgment of the stars

enclosing breast and berth of hidden fire

until the darkness slowly seeps away

surrendered to the white of heavens smile

light on naked stone, while I desire.

Novitiate

"Among the men and women the multitude
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs"
- Walt Whitman

O Calamus Father
grackle eyed and swarthy,
drawn down to kosmos by your sole and exclusive standard,
you call from a shelved book enscribed but not signed,

      "To the Learn'd Astronomer;
        The antimony between mind and body, want and need,
        overcome until there is only poetry."

I bite into my apple and chew,
observing blurred words scattering
like blackbirds from a newly hewn field of gold

cracked pages. I am reaching for your redwood,
pine and oak, fiery fields and swamp songs,
your winding rivers long, your orchards,
flax and honey; your alleghanian hills,
your third month twigs,
lilacs blooming amid drooping stars,
frost-mellowed berries becoming plump

with each turning leaf, engorged
with the blood of breast and land and love,
thrusting curious systole and diastole,
my tongue slips itself from me
wetting my lips with liquid fire.

Words in shape arise,
priaptic forms into ecstatic light,
quality, anima, beating and breathing,
I taste your rolling earthblood yearning
from damp crevices within

a hundred familiar stars explode

the tomb; non-chalance, apathy,
discard of spikenard, unheard nightingales,
painting in the dark; singing in graveyards,
broken oaths and promises,
fall like grey doves
out of a dark and lightless sky.

Divine nimbus exhaling
quivering into me new identity,
or another dreamed dream;
electric façade, synchronicity,
maya or hopeful illusion;

This then is what it is in me, love
that makes me tremble at such voices.

Cartography

I’ve buried the legend, the cortex

The dangerous places of view

Erased them from my maps

Moved the borders back

with leather straps

bound with cordian knots;

banned the woodland nymphs,

the mangrove

sloughed away from the iris

into dark scars these wild tattoos.

I have forbidden them permanence.

And now this pained glass of winter

renders a frozen ghost beneath

me; wearing my hair, my clothes

Three kinds of silk and a mass of

tangled curls,but I’ve denied her,

absolved and repented her

whispered her away in prayer

a thousand times over, homing

her away, away

into the shadows

still, she stares

Only the eyes are still wild.

In the Company of Trees

She was adopted

by the shadows

of trees

caressing the

governor arms

of a sentry oak

whispered strange

reasonings to the wind.

To carry home

while they lingered in sun

gazing the darkness

beneath

her black withered

eyes; Pleased

cats

prowling with curiosity

at raindrops that fell

silver from branch-lashes.

Years later

her messages

discovered

leaves scattered

before eyes

that could not see

"Leave, Leave;

their insanity

will cut you

into paper

to inscribe

themselves upon ."

But like the trees

they remained

immovable

roots planted

without consent.

Carnival of Glass

What is left of me: Love

A ravaged scepter in my chest

bleeding magnetizable ashes

the consequence of one long rain

that has sown the life

and death of me

Queans in the garden

Scrappling for worth; scrambling

bitches feasting on crumbs

What you must be worth then

I, who feast on the rotten

scraps of whores

starving

In your alien kingdom

Born for love and to its only end

Assembling for beauty

my brokenness from fragments

into liliputian houris

an insane carnival

of half illumined moons

fertile unaware crescents

bearing presence to you

a sweet abyss encircling

their movements tangled

in my soulsong

glazed eyes in head lights

from the ether of an abdicated

monarchy forged from

what was once lost

is now possessed forever.

Seven Nights

I
My little Rumi dreamer
My little drummer boy
Has filled his ears with sand
I coo and la the nights
Bend his ear with shadows
Talk to me; he tries

But theres nothing there to say

II
The smooth goodness
of an unintentional caress
on my ripe thigh
under relaxed covers
surrenders everything
while saying nothing at all

III
In walks a giant with rumpled hair
and beautiful eyes;
And when he speaks, I dream

IV
I mention a penchant
For diminutive shoes

He buys me everyone.

V
Loans me wings
When I long to soar.

VI
Spreads great arms
Over the puddles of my tears.

VII
I have yearned distances
flirted with mysteries.
Broken the windows
of our house of glass
and still He brings coffee
every morning to my bed;
this beautiful book of sighs.

Two Spoons and an Aspirin

slid down

my back like water

ran the spaces

between bone and ash

cumbersome.

The darkness crushed

new light

while sheets slipped

and tongues prevailed

pressed my mind

into halves.

One for this.

One for that.

Penumbra

O setting Sun

Ardent for new birth-

She who is,

one of many moons

reflecting you

orbits verdant earth.

His tides torment

between the two of you.

while surface tumults

spewing fire and might.

Through long eclipse

dark storms intensify.

Ceded barrenness

becomes your right

Surrendered into silver

chrome of grace.

Ebon night alone

then left to weep

You rise again

and to a new moon

creep.

whacked

Hold your tomatoes

and tongues until I’ve finished.

It isn’t the angst

ennui, sole to bare, belabored

grudge sucking at my breast

I’ve weaned them

I’m done. I want someone to obey

Lay my will down. Throw me

into a new world

I’ll wear the veil. I’ll embrace

The foot up my ass. I am tired

Of mediocre

virtues stacked in a corner unused.

Im putting the books to Hemlock

De Beauvoir, Nin

Undusted

Eyes to hold me down

a bed that’s not too comfortable

forgiveness

woman. Means what?

lipstick fingers

parsed red, cherries

stolen, hidden away

spoiling in the depths

Don’t touch, Don't speak

Don't reach

where I have never

been created. help me

find me.

Moonbones

I am hungry not to be
coffee grounds, the dead plant in
terracotta beside the back door

crumbling bones unearthed after
lunch in 2193
by a student archeologist

who would not notice, poring over
the dead moon clavicle, bleached earth
bones releasing me from silence

a wail of soul delivered long
from memories deep enough
to penetrate time and calcium

wretched girl; useless passions
will you cease then, quieting
into a sepulchure of earth and foam

phalanges, better for you
to be strung about the neck of
laughing millenium children

as random beadwork
dipped in absinthe, iridescent
jewels, polished in the mother pearl

of moon glowing full
with the dust of women;
we who haunt the spaces here.

X1705

And after this

there is nothing more. Save

waiting

for the new day.