The America of Her Body

He travels slowly down his
Lover’s body, she is passive as
An angel waiting to turn human

They are dancing in body-talking
She swells to meet him arching
Her back, her navel, her harmonious

Chime of thighs, once winged
He tells her she is his Delphic oracle
To fill his ear full of sweet nothings

Those chosen pearls of hers do swell
They, intoxicated wait for the pulse
Of joy in earthly motions, those tongues

That dwell, on a boundless sea of successful
Unity, they scattered their dearest cries
Like an alchemy of flattered death

That strange hands and lips would not deny
Those kisses she and he know best –
He travels sweetly in her soul of gold

Through her moisture to the other side
She warms to a hot liquid of clay molding
Her form into mortal awareness, at last

With two bloods mingling gently as one
With no sin, no shame, no inhibition left
The marriage is a temple; the feast divine

Free license to all roving art, from behind
Before, above, between, below, a new-found discovery!

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/–409074243

Prologue to a Lifetime of Seduction

I cannot remember her face
She was my biology teacher at eighteen
With the tense wait of seduction
In her limbs, the feast on youth

Through golden binoculars
I used to sit, looking at the
Golden chain near her blonde hair
And everything around her

Used to burst into song
At the end of an avenue
Was her smile, I know she was kindness
Her body the buttons of immature eyes

Like blind fingers vaguely aroused
By a feminine voice, like a soldier’s
Last memory of love, before war
I cannot remember her face

The lion of her Madonna of stealth
That lifted my erogenous Genesis
To a good-natured grin, the touch
Of a fragrance that could only mean

Celebration, a great rose of a nipple
That my adolescence could only imagine.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/arch-412281192

At The Moment you Learn to Use your Hands

Teach us then how to beg
And not how to make a fist
I have been a warrior long enough

Teach us too to fold our fingers
In diplomacy’s easy request
Taking defeat out into the open

Where we are all a loser in the game
Of love & survival, all sense the same void –
Where we are married with shared tribulations

Teach us then how to shield a slender fate
To brace a door from a weary storm
Teach us the great cause of loving arms

Open hands that carry our playful travelling
And offer the ultimate grain of our salvation
Like a knot of fingers over-head
To opaque friends that ennoble all shared struggles.

Photo Courtesy Lhttp://www.deviantart.com/art/hands-54834532

In These Times You Have to be Terribly Careful

As a result of being confirmed
As unable to breathe or think
Confined in the dark, my friends
That is how I know I am dead –
Only occasionally is my heart now moved
By the plight of mortals and

The weight, of their mischievous mortality
They can’t reconcile themselves
To their condition, since their
lives are so full of change
They raise their heads clumsily
Like infants, only to live with a limp

Fearing the inevitable, I was once
Like light, adjusting myself
In the crypt of empty space
As a result of being, after the symphony
As unable to hear the empty music
Confined in the light, my friends

That is how I know I am yet alive –
I will take every occasion thus
To let my heart be moved
By the awkward wonders here,
And the stems of silence like levels
Of the hotel of flesh, where the carpet
Of my biology is somehow too soft.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Petrova-3-412362390