Words of Friendship


105

Only they are only breath
These words come from my source
My brief light of granted heart

The spoken commands of my immortality
With wings and feet that move
Rhythmically, and tenderly

I dance for a crushing altar of love
A circle of soft understanding
A smooth flowering grass

Of the best little breaths I ever had
These words come from the universe
Before they were mothers without children

Devoted to friends, these words sing on
After we are all gone, so be it
It’s not of use to fret of acts that were never had

I nearly died for imaginary things before
Only they are only breath
These words that dangle carelessly

Across the shooting distance of quick years
My dreams they fold at least in purple
A handkerchief around your timid gifts
I was sent to you to give you companionship.

Photography Credits: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Burn-it-Down-II-375988008

Subdued in the Wheat of your Belonging


Before I loved you, Love
Nothing was my own, I had nothing
Now I tunnel the moon in everything
The whole world is mine
I am in love with everyone
As if I forgot the case
Of the majesty of each soul

Before I loved you, Love
Things were not as they seemed
Now I walk the streets with your unity
And I am a better man, my mind
Stretches across the illusion of separation
I am a bit of everyone I contact
They see it in me, I want the warehouse

Of illimitable joys, that speaks
The richness of the human spirit
Those four word idioms that show
My splendour of understanding
Before I loved you, Love
I wasn’t myself, you have returned
Me back to you, and as such

I will always love what love always was
Since before all silence, I came from you
And after all landscapes of Earth
I will still yearn to imitate you.

Like an Aztec Peasant Warrior


But we are permitted to wonder
And there is nothing left to say of it
My vows were dead as premonitions
Like an Aztec priestess, I was sent to be sacrificed

When the sudden death came
I was not expecting, the inevitable
I lost consciousness distilled in a lifetime
Of servitude, and vowed one day to rise

In a different form, a greater jaguar
The old winter rain stained my blood soaked body
I am afraid there is no room, in your heart
For one such as me, I am too gentle

Too kind, too sort of like a shepherd
I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more
But we are permitted to wonder
What might have been, I know in dying I do

I shall sleep in the streets with the last Great Word
And tell no grand-daughters why you were so cruel.

I Have Not Had the Pleasure


Your mind is a beautiful raiment
Of an alien geometric pattern

I was haunted by your icy banner
Your sermon of the snow

Your soul is a beautiful sky-trace
Of an alien enchanted thrill

I was haunted by your perverse design
Your sensuality of dark heavens

Your body is a beautiful smouldering city
Of an alien city I once called home

We have not sown this, it has come from before
Like a karma of how I go to things I love

Your mind does justice, in the places
Between us, like velvet telepathy

Of an alien fashion, I used to know about
The place of higher skill, the paradise of migratory students.

The Male Myth of Success


Let fame never find genius
And love fuel crazy sacrifice
Who nameless died attacking
For a cause forgotten, that’s a funny truth
That men specialize
For imaginary battles
That may mean nothing
For posterity, but the simple
Games of boyish dreams
Tons of bronze, statuses buried in the Sea
A kind of prostitution, to inferiority
You said it was rocket fuel
An inconsolable force to drive us on
I called it my survival-mode
My leap before looking
Of the few things I loved.

Through Posthumous Twilights Given


My arrival into discrepancy isn’t new
It’s as old as bristling diamond sparks
My glory in grief is minor
My shifting sequences are brittle
The love I bear is getting weaker
While to others, I’m merely a gentle fire
Unremarkable in illumined simplicity
My arrival into anonymity isn’t new
It’s as old as the Tao beclouded, austere
I go strolling and my dreams kiss older women
I’m almost unafraid to settle for silhouettes
Of the life I thought I’d lead
My glory in evergreen, cherry bloom shutters
Life is racing without consolation
Life, she will not be sending any more letters
To my heart ablaze at the stake
No warrior of God’s battalion of merits did I become
Simply as worried as if I’ll be able to forgive
The self-neglect of so much meaningless grieving.