Friday, December 26, 2008

Mind the closing doors

This black car is carrying black hearts
and you golden vision on the A train.

What are you thinking as you stare
into the gray distance of 10 feet?

Blue Eyes, soft blue eyes, what are you thinking
in that distant stare, what lies behind those eyes?

Do you think of the cold snow wind
that has made your cheek pink? Blush on pale white skin...

What do you feel as you caress your face, itch gone?
Do your fingers thrill at your touch, flesh to flesh?

I too dream of being a glove, your glove...your shirt...
your whole god damn wardrobe, just to touch you.

Does your young blonde beard feel soft against a cheek,
soft as your blonde hair may be, soft as your blue eyes?

NO NO NO, muddled are dead to me...
or am I dead to men? hasn't been decided, the votes are still out.

A little Peruvian blows his pipe and fingers his tiny green ukulele
for money, and plays as my pensive and profound soundtrack.

Golden boy you have secretly saved me from my heart
if only until the next stop, a momentary mend.

Mind the closing doors indeed!

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Ripe Fruit

through space...

all together.

Those eyes glaze stupidly, hungrily,
at the spectacle that is you.
They are sitting there
swollen on mediocrity
they judge with their glassy eyes
and cheap clothes.

You are a warrior, you think.
You are a ripe fruit you think...
a fruit of rustling energy.

Thin gray casing
tightly hold innards
ready to burst through, blossom through
with a snap and a sizzle!

You accept the burden of you
the burden that is you, as a crown
your will to power
to will the power!

How beautiful you look when the light hits you...
the light always hits you just right.
Look how they stare when the light hits you,
its just wrong.

In time soon, someone else will fill your space...
next stop, next life, someone else
with cheap clothes and broken dreams.
Perhaps someone else, like you
living glamour in black car...

but someone else will be there,
to fill your space,
staring into the void
hungry for just a little more..
like you
like me
through space.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Sublime Request

Blue washes over
White trumpets blast silently
Brilliant, foretaste of myself
Pregnant with expectations
Pregnant with my own vigor
Vital energies swirl within me
My body responds graciously
Crisp air charged with luminous
pleasures dance affectionately
and wash around my body

I dance alone
I dance with myself quietly

in the cold blue morning

Blue licks over me
Longing for you longing for me
You, just beyond my fingertips
Illusive stranger, I have always known you,
Hunger Hunger Hunger
I kiss myself, to feed myself
Seductive stranger, Glory.
You drive my hunger, Life,
you owe me a debt

I whirl away
I whirl aware of my muscle

in the soft blue morning

Blue caresses over my body
I cry for pleasure
I cry for pain
I cry....the charge of your seduction
it pumps my pistons
filing my ache with
your obligation
For I am your creator
“I am my own creator”
I cry

in the blue blue morning

Life, I tire of promises
I am aware of myself
I am aware I am creation I am destruction
Did Narcissus hold his breath at that sublime moment
or did he gulp it in filling himself with himself
with the blue oblivion
as I wish to be filled
I wish to be fulfilled
desperately gulping

in the sparkling blue morning

Life, in the blue morning , alone, I dance.