Man's Heart Hath Thorns

This flinching man
Hath thorns deep in the heart.
His defense from the many
Coquettish daphne driving them in,
Is that of a neighbor's dog
Playing Dead across the yard.
Thorns thus embedded are likely
Talons arresting life into death.

Flinching man,
Macrocosmos of man,
You escaped to the south
Seeking refuge in the run.
Indoors and in piles of wires
And cords, in work, out of work.
Last I heard you were swimming in a pool;
I am in a Charybdis uncleansed.
I am stuck with reason.
What seperates men from animals-
What treasure?
What nightly terror?

Awaking from a dream that,
Like a mother, knows just what to do,
And like a child, disobeys utterly, sweetly.
I awake with chains.
The duty of interpreting your presence
Is fit for a martyr.
No, a prophet.
Have you not created a religion?
Have you not thirsted for a river
So wide of my blood?
I loved you like a tyrant to his throne.
I know why I can not love you now.

What wound cuts deeper than
A mother's betrayal?
I will give you a clue,
Amongst the perils
Of an antecedent life,

You were my son.

The Throbbing of Propagation

Women love like hunters.
In men, they see the truly
Beknownst beauty of prey.

Drooling in tall grasses,
They become keenly witted
With soft paws poised to the breast.
The meat before them is a feast
They have waited for all their lives.
To viscerate upon the brink for some,
I tell you, will reckon slumber for
Bellies full with veritable answers
Like a tranquilizer to the wound.

Watch, as the hunter cuts off her
Arms and lays on her side
While few wonder what one
Feast has to do with their minds.
Like-minds, they molder!
Remember, Antigone wanted to die.

Must we perpetually invade amniotic
Spaces to make it with our prey?
If, in the ephemera of a moment,
Our bellies and minds come to a
Truce of contentment...

Then I shall wonder, what
Of my heart.

My Soul, Beyond

It was not the length of time
In which you left,
You could have been gone a year
Had I not sought after you.
It is time in its aching hours
That deemed me alone.

In folds of blankets I saw your face.
In the deepest of night I feared
The infiniteness of the world.
Cats shuffled across the
Wooden hallways and cried
To the corners of the walls.
I blamed you for this fear.
Through the uninterrupted mind,
In hours of silence and hermetic thought,
There lies a clarity, much like
The center of a still pond reflecting
The light of the sun perfectly,
As gaily as ideas becoming truths.
I had begun to resent the absence
Of your ears to whisper secrets into...

Now that you are here,
Your welcome will be this:

I am beyond you.

My soul has traced the outlines
Of the first human with its hands.
It bore each new species from
My marrow and bone.
Knowing fully well that each is I,
I have quested to find the one
Who remembers me without skin.
Without this face and without this body,
I am a layer of the atmosphere
Joyously reaching down to hold you.
O' when you feel the reigns of
The illuminate OM tightening,
I will come to you once more and whisper:

I am amongst you.

A Moment is Yours

By lamplight, I lay at the farthest end of the bed to read
And I feel you staring up my legs
Tracing scars and silently shadow puppeting
Ankle to cheek, as if your fingers were monsters.

Your hands, brittle and sweet
Sneaking fruit from the trees
Embracing slowness, slow lover
Learning to admire childish
Shadows on a canvas
Of woman in between-

Is that your love?
If one beckons gently for their
inner desires, why does another
remain at the end of said bed?
Monsters, that's just it.

They are as frightening
Up my soft legs as if
Before me now.

Their garish faces tickle and taunt
The mind, convinced of a joyous
Reeling and further contained
As a sacred ritual underground, inside.
The monsters are not mine,
They are not real,
So, the monsters are all mine;
As I would imagine, and to let
Them desire from a distance
Is passion at its least solicitation
Yet most intrinsic spring and
Boundless you.

Spare you not a minute of beauty
To reflection.
Have it deep within your soul
Now,
For the hell of it.

For I- could not look
God in the eyes to show
My gratitude for life
Whilest living it.