heartbeats

§ one night to be confused...

dark eyes, fierce and... innocent?

mountain peaks jutting looming

naked skies wrap music making

who is this magnificent creature?

no, please don’t go

don’t say goodnight.

one night to speed up truth...

miraculous stumbling upon

a second goddess encounter

no more worshipping false idols

I am so intensely present to myself; to her

yes, five becomes three becomes two

just us now.

we had a promise made...

first night: glances that dared questioned yearned

second night: lingering gazes that played caressed penetrated

finally alone, first touch, first kiss

cleaved! in two. a voice shouting out from the darkness above

no, please don’t go

please, please, please. don’t say goodnight.

four hands and then away...

a quarrel, some bags, a bus, and then

quiet. we are alone. together.

no confusion just the thick truth of our desire

four hands, entwined limbs, kisses, caresses

yes, I am shattered by you

pray the sun will never rise.

both under influence...

consciousness swims

where do I end and you begin?

I am lost in a sea of you

your eyes (those eyes!), your scent, your skin

no, please don’t go

passing out now would be a cruelty beyond compare

we had divine sense...

morning birdsong sunrise grief

i’ve lost her. no way to find her. she’s gone.

south india plains monastery; worlds away

yet, absurd impossible hope somehow hot and alive

yes! another miracle electronic and flickering.

will she plunge leap blindly foolishly? for me?

to know what to say...

exotic beauty, peace, chanting, flowing blood robes

but my mind is consumed; all I can feel is her

one email a day, each day painfully long

did she call me cowboy?

no, neither caution nor restraint will be allotted roles in our play.

my very being thrums: she is on her way. this miracle makes three.

mind is a razor blade...

a light drizzle of little rain droplet gifts: what we didn’t expect

rivulets of innocence under scar tissue

honesty, wandering, keeping company with humbling monks

nighttime expeditions into the forests of each other

yes, I want nothing more.

release, let go, and bathe in the softness of my adoration

§ one night of magic rush...

tel aviv. six years nearly to the day

anxious clock tick pints on a patio pub

she is flesh again: fourth miracle (flesh; and those eyes...)

I am flooded; electricity and blood and thirst

perhaps it wasn’t all a dream?

these feelings, so familiar; we’ve been here before.

the start a simple touch...

wine and song; I am in her nest, I am home

mutual hesitation: what if we touch and the illusion dissolves?

sudden crash resistance dam burst

the start: a simple touch

perhaps we... dare we... is this... fate?

please. to pass out now would be a cruelty beyond compare

one night to push and scream...

I watch her sleep. I play with her hair.

I nuzzle her neck. I kiss her flesh.

I watch her sleep. I trace her features with my fingers.

consciousness swims; I am pulled under.

perhaps it’s best this way. one night to push and scream,

but would we have survived tearing ourselves in two yet again?

and then relief...

the holy land; the wellspring of history itself

this nation: the exuberance of youth,

the hardened weariness of constant threat

but my mind is consumed; all I can feel is her

perhaps I will somehow return? perhaps the cosmos

will pluck her from the promised land and gently lay her within arms reach

perhaps there is yet a third act to our play: a fifth miracle

perhaps there remains, there is yet to come:

ten days of perfect tunes

the colors red and blue

we (will have) had a promise made

we...

§ dare we believe in the most absurd of all fictions?



for ES  (August 2012)

a poem shared

(sent from a friend)

When a lover
wrapping a fist in her
thick black braid
forces her with rough kisses --
Ah! savage words
pressed through that indignant
woman's teeth,
may they bring good
fortune
to all who suffer.

Vidya

translated by Andrew Schelling and published (p.47) in The Cane Groves of Narmada River: Erotic Poems from Old India

poem #12

despite all appearances

entrechats
a distraction
performed under bright lights

for I want and need the warm blanket of a fond gaze

entrecôte
an offering
placed upon fine china

for I worry incessantly about billboards and choking hazards

entrepôt
a foundation
built of steel and trust

for I long for balance in trade; imports and exports

entre nous
a nocturne
whispered while you sleep

for I have not courage enough for the unguarded honesty of brazen mea culpa

poem #11

In Between Syllables

a wish is an affirmation
of a need unfulfilled

a hope is an expectation
of return on an investment

a crow is a blackbird
that feeds on carrion

a confession is a failure
of small shoulders

a gripe is a barbiturate
of victim mentality

a pigeon is a dove
that cannot carry peace

a question is a benign tumor
of a short attention span

a gift is an entreaty
of a lonely wanderer

a parrot is a mockingbird
that mocks the habituated

a smile is a multiplicity
of doorways

an ear is a bottomless basin
of raindrops and snowflakes

a hawk is a phoenix
that has not yet been set alight

poem #8 (reprise)

(perhaps the destiny of Empire is peril and hence omens are oft ignored)


…and who among you are ready
to intercede in the Interment
of Innocence

when Unrestraint forces himself upon Reason?


the slur of the soothsayer’s stroke stricken lips
falls flat upon the deaf ears of androids
like sail against mast in the flat water of doldrums

as the shot rings out from his crack-lipped muzzle
the crowd heeds not for they hear not

insanity is camouflaged to peoples too busy to bide verbal bedlam

and so the madman remains anonymous
he whose lunacy is simply a curse
an affliction the same as that of Cassandra

and no minstrel and no historian
will arise to resurrect his utterances
his caveat, his counsel, his rebuke…


when the force of our efforts is fully centripetal
a plague will fall and all are punished

poem #9

binging, brawling, fisting, and starving

the corners were covered in saffron scabs
the fleshy twin pooches cracked and peeling
sweat pregnant with an acrid pungency
subtle auras painted with acidic excretion

the pleasure of a capsicum violence…

legs crossed and quivering
the slightest shift sends sentinel shocks
timing as an artform
else dew drops turn to torrent

the pleasure of denying a basic need…

neatly arranged arrays of surgical steel
calves, thighs, arms, spine and trickles of blood
white-hot sublimation into singularity
feigning to entertain, he revels in the trembling

the pleasure of being consumed…

surging forward, searching and grasping
yearning for substance
yielding to schematics
the mind loosening panic of empty nothing looms

oh aliens on islands
afraid to sleep
these gratification-concentrates extracted from pain

oh smelling-salt masochists
bartering body for Being
these unseemly acts for a fleeting peek behind the curtain

poem #7

Socially Acquired Disease

pernicious perturbation
little sliver who pricks and punishes
how is it you have honed
annoyance into auto erotica?

the pink blue warmth of paradise winds
precursor to unforeseen shipwrecks
what hope can be had for captain and crew
when casual smiles give way to dire straits?

the cacophony created between
your sickly siren song
and my melancholy lament
nightly drives the dogs to howl

and the nascent light of sunrise offers no solace
from the bruises of your batting eyelash battery


sewn into the suit I tried on, I falter
afraid of the correlation of escape and scar tissue

I would warn the world
foretelling misfortune from folly
but I opt not to open my mouth
lest you look upon it as an invitation

needling nuisance
little inflammation who itches and burns
how is it you have perverted
patience into patheticism?