Discipline

Strict adherence

to a form,
I’m told,
is the discipline
of the poet;
flights of fancy
nonwithstanding.

‘Learn to place
the fancy
WITHIN the form,‘
a revered master
told me once.

I cannot comply
my master, alas!.
I cannot comply
with constraints!

WHY only so many beats?
why are they called beats?
who on earth needs
rhyme schemes
that feel unnatural?

WHY must force
be applied to the tiny
spirits embodied
by the words?

Violence contradicts
my creed.

Flights of fancy,
unexpected interconnexions -
oft break out
of expected forms;

and how can I deny
the spirits of these words?

how can I,
mere human that I am,
deny the Powers that
spill forth from my pen,
bubble off my tongue?

I cannot.

I honor the spirit
of the poem
flowing through me now.

Perhaps tomorrow,
a Sonnet will volunteer;
for now,
no luck.

There is only
this doggerel;
(in which are hiding
many gods).

To the World

Love, my love,
my world! My treasure!

Sing to me in undulating tones
of the worlds we have hymned into being!
The bliss of souls, bodiless,
entwined as incense smoke with prayers
carried to that distant Queen
idly playing solitaire while
blithely ignoring her children.

Love, my love,
my multidimensional euphoria!
My hand bound book -- transcendent and glorious!

Let us drink of only the most sublime of vintages,
while away our days in drinking one another in with our eyes;
with our hearts.
Maybe we notice the pleasures of the vine.
Maybe we see only the other.
Iron gall ink is black as your snakeskin shoes,
the scent headier when mix’d with yours.

Love, my love,
my sweet universe!

You hide in bodied shapes
unsuited to your myriad glories.
Hanger of stars!
Author of the Music of the Spheres!
Dancer into being of nebulae.
Nanny to infant worlds,
singing mystic lullabies to star children
in every when in every multiverse...
your voice echoes through my being,
shooting red throughout my golden hues.
Jotting nothings in every language ever conceived -
all translate to ‘this is mine.’

Love, my love,
my world -
there is no life worth living without you in it.
Not at all.

Only You

The morning is everything.
Sunrise.  Your voice.
The texture of it flowing down my collarbone into the corner
of my elbow, where it pools like liquid gold.

Distracted over breakfast -
the songbirds wake; singing hymns and paens to your
inexorable and numberless beauties, O hazel-eyed divinity.
All I can do is fumble over my eggs in wordless wonder.

Nightfall is everything.
Moonrise. Your breath condenses in the cool of the evening,
gathering ‘round our heads like a prayer floating up to the ears
of all the Gods and Kami.

Distracted over supper -
Your eyes of gold shine, reflecting the full moon’s light;
delight echoing in your words, depths of love and longing
dripping from each sacred syllable; it stops my heart.

At every moment in between,
the sacred pulse of your blood moving through your veins
shakes the air around you, the heat of Life drawing
my attention, my passion, my devotion.

It was ever only you.
It is ever only you.
It will ever be
only you.

Love Song In Spite of Everything

My Soul sings of stars

long-longed for,
long half-remembered,
long, long, long told tales of
‘round camp fires
built by the children of Earth.

My Heart revolves
around the flame of You,
my Supernova,
builder of my defenses,
motivator of my every action;
I sing echoes of stardust
into the broken places in your frame.

Applying gems and precious metals
with careful pressure and heat
to the cracked places in your skin.
Kintsugi,
I think,
the Japanese call this idea.
You are my only Treasure,
breaks and all.

Your worth exceeds
the assumptions of others
about you.
They tell me you are Evil,
a clear-and-present Danger,
Deviant, Defiant, a Liar.

They know nothing whatsoever
of who you are.
Of why you are.
Of what you cannot bear
these Children to endure
uneducated,
unprotected,
unloved.

Tabu in every lifetime,
you’ve said of our lifebond,
our love,
forbidden everywhere,
and everywhen.

And I don’t care anymore,
O Singular Delight!

Your hand in mine
prompts my stars to sing
my homesick heart to
declare it’s hope
which only ever lay
in you.  In your heart.
In our truth.

Someone quoted you
on a screen somewhere;

We’re on our own side, angel.

And they,
and you,

are right.

Little Things

Little things
Amidst the squalor
Of our times.

Flashes of love,
Of light
In the sulfurous days.

Small actions
Add up.

Compassion
Means something.

And I’ll spread these sacred moments
As I’m being forced into hell.

These slaves
Serve their own Enemy
& call it God.

I Wear Black

I wear black,
mostly.

I lust after snakeskin shoes.

I can’t see you

this lifetime

in any 

normal-for-a-human

way

and all I want

and all I long for

Is a moment

with your lips on mine,

your arms squeezing me

til I have no breath in this body

because you EXIST

and you love me!

You STILL love me!

The miracle that is your

heart beating loud enough

that I can hear it

I wear black

because that is what you wore

the last day

I ever saw you

I will never believe

that you are gone forever

For you are my

True North,

my Root,

my only Point of Light.

When once

you walk into this bodied

world again

I will wear the rainbow shawl

in celebration

of the day we Healed the Sky.

Until then,

I stand at the end of the broken

bridge across the Milky Way;

and pine.

And kiss every image

you have ever Inspired

so I would not forget your face

because you KNOW

I am faceblind in this life.

You. . .

and your damned hot

pointy shoes

with silver filigree tips.

How could I ever forget you?

I cannot.

My Own

Those damned,
long, pointy, squaredish,
silver filigree at the tip,
black snakeskin shoes . . .

Just seeing them
and suddenly
Drakkar Noir is up my nose
your crazy long black hair
is blowing in the gentle breeze at sunrise
in winter.

"You never once
even TRIED
to kiss me."

No, I didn't.

You are a sacred being to me,
my Treasured Delight.

Everyone else
gave in to their lust
around you.

I refused.

Because I loved you.
Because I have always and will always
love you.

"And this is why
I am ever Yours and no one else's.

This, and no other reason.
You see my soul,
You see my heart.

And never do you act
in ways that might bruise
my already troubled mind.

Thank you,
Treasured Delight."

Always,
My Own.