Slow Dance


53

Slow Dance

When with lust and life
I am smitten
And to your bosom
And breasts I cleave
Don’t call me weak

That youth and femininity
Have power over me
I worship the sacred in you
As you worship the sacred in me
With joy and naked song

We make love and stare
At god, rainbow, universe
For each body rare

And each holy kiss
I find divine repair
The flesh at least allows
A bit of blood and glory
In pleasure few, or foul, or taken

With but these lips
And a sainthood’s heart
Evolution decreed naked girls

With silver combs and red lips
Have thus a hold on me
In every decade, for the glory
Of life’s bounty, is in you.

Featured photography: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Pure-Form-504629194

I hung many shinny things on us


There is no remedy for love but to love more.
~ Henry David Thoreau

Photo Credits: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Railway-473032196

83

i

Love is like a foreign language
once you hear it, you want to hear it more
speak it without it sounding alien
though she will behave here

as in a schoolbook for a foreign language
where we are all beginners
all sometimes say dirty words

ii

Without meaning to, she reaps
She sleeps, she washes, she softens
to its touch because it was made for her
like attachment, and for him like pleasure

love has no vowels, no translations, no silence
only a universal physicality and spirituality
that makes you have no defenses, you

iii

Trying not to love doesn’t bring you anywhere
it’s creative to let her use you
she is the last refugee and the first politics
she comes back in the evening when

your world is torn upside down with bills
it’s love that cooks for you darling
she whispers to you, “I’m taking you home”.

DISTANCES OF PLEASURE


1.

i

I have been distracting myself
In an Ocean of pleasures
Grasping purpose in the world

ii

I found the clinging and the having
Unpleasant, empty, forgetful of meditation
With my temporary pleasures
There was a burden of grief
Imprisonment, dissatisfaction and loneliness
An animal in a self-chosen cage

iii

In my relative attachment to the world
I somehow missed the sip of divinity
And with my greed, there came a fear
Of losing, failure, abandonment from security

iv

I have forgotten how to live without lust
I go from one craving to the next
As if living a simulation, envious
Of the remembrance of virtuous living.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/11-11-455255289

I’ve Swallowed Distant Pollen in your Kiss


46

No one can reckon what I owe
To the wonders of this world
I am grateful for, your wilderness
Like a young girl becoming a woman

You brush your hand over me
And I rise, from the Sea to your Joy
Like the fields being watered
I surge to life in your hands

That know the creativity of Life
Like a blind bird with still so much flight
I roam for continents of your touch
Where wandering lightning might strike

In these loins, yielding in penetration
With the moisture of all that is yielding
Feeling with body, my ceilings of pleasure
Emotional in my lonely house, like a lover

Waiting for you, till you will see me again
No one can reckon what I owe
The brief devouring hope of flesh & soul
My body to rub your kiss, with certain pangs

Stealing the key to my innocence, my blood
On fire for you to continue your pleasing
My wineglass drunk every drop of your moisture
Sipping the roots of your womanhood

As if in your flesh I might find time, salt, whispers
The rumor of wood, green, growing things
No one can reckon what I owe
Life begets life, women bring joy

I am grateful, for the shadows in your moods
Like a young girl becoming a woman
I dare not trespass too close to your curiosity.