I see Nature not as my Mother
but rather as my Wild Sister.
not all centers..
in the Storms she looks over, winks maybe
her blond hair going down
with a laugh.
later may be tears.
Rivers.
Regrets, loving too much though in our embrace
we know we love not enough.
Sister we move together. kinship of shared loss
and rejoice Wild.
Ah
how we are lost Fidel.
For in our youth, at least
we could look into the eyes
of our opponents,
taste their jaws.
But now we fight
only phantoms it seems.
The enemy invisible
+ everywhere.
The crime passed
now what treachery worms through the soul
ah yes
how I shall consume convention,
vomit upon agreed deeds and plans.
no treatise respected
no words shall linger
chained to gilded ideals.
we shall drift nomadic.
Minute conspiracies
torrent through the Venus.
clues scattered throughout this room.
glances trances
message romances
Free! To Craze
Lunar!
Yes! In these shadows we steal,
Documents are passed efficiently, I see.
Blueprints mission the better way
of Dogs and Men,
of those such as us
Us, villainous Us!
thieves treasonous, lurking long after
all have left this room.
and we are alone.
Betrayal II
long after all have left this room
I shall reach for you with treasonous hands.
tonight has found me conspire
every moment
each passing glance
amongst the crowd.
the crowd. this Mass that pants
of Fates breath
licking at my ear.
Betrayal III
the moment of betrayal?
a touch, a pause, a plan
Minute conspiracies torrent through the Venus
you said.
Passion sent to crater hearts
as you move
you said.
Desire, the dust of impact
hazing the long dead air
of mistaken planets
you said.
Or is betrayal the prolonged conspiracy,
the deceived moments watched on a clock?
Efficient Documents
Detail Eugenic Blueprints
that map, ideal a better way,
the better touch and taste.
you said
it was the Orgasm
instantaneous, but lingering.
meet me.
Betrayal IIII
The Spirit of Renewal
blowing from these plains
the dusts of Resolution + Revolution.
Dusts layering the land
layering the Dead
and the Dead.
But we are not of the Dead,
We are the Living.
We are the Flesh that filters
all wind and earth,
all witness
found in the soils and breath
of the buried.
Renewal.
The Wildfire Raging
burning from the veils of heaven
and stones of earth
the ash from which
the Phoenix of Forgiveness
shall rise.
caw caw
your words caw through this room
as crows,
shards of the night
scratching & flapping
back to the daybreak
of shatter.
we bleed now,
crowbeaks lodged
deeply inside our black comfort.
your language of cascade begins
your everything named and known
A torrent of order!
An approaching march of drums!
caw caw
your skin of marble in this land of ruin
- antiquity -
lingers on your shoulder
where I lie,
gaze to witness history
as I listen, languorously
to your lips
recanting the legends of your passions,
the senses of your body perfect
and mind transcendent.
you are the season beyond
that of Hope.
you are the season of Renewal
blowing from this plain
the dusts of Resolution,
the ash of Memory.
in your storms
Reason is laid bare
and bleached.
I believe in your Witness,
your vision of a Present
to evolve
in manners of allowance
for us to sculpt the rains,
mold from the moods of Future Venus
words unearthed,
words howled from a distance
to warn of the approaching sounds of Force
and Fury.
of what monster
do I weave within?
watch me stitch/stretch
cripple extend
meaning,
contort in my search
for the known loom
of the lingering
convulsive, hiding
just beyond my form
- at the edge of the beautiful -
laying in wait
with the beeste.
Streets begin to blur edges separating wraiths + wretches Dead and Non-Dead.
A new empowerment rises,
shifting shapes melancholy & tenacious, the denouement far from over in a gradual phase to the Phantastic !
in the face of it I am faceless
and blanketed.
There are no words to be said
save these 'my love',
no voices to be found within.
Tired, I have become the barrens,
windswept and dry.
Breezing grasses/grazing beestes,
from the haze a cry
strident and long
perhaps a kill has occured.
bodygeographic II
I am the delta, the silted
riverbed, meridians + tropic
lines, latitudes.
I've heard it said the world
is too big and time too
short for memories
but I don't know.
Remembrance of the body
or the land ?
the story of someone frozen
on a mountain, a little girl
with a baby snotted
and ocean blue.
bodygeographic III
my search /erosion
+ slow excavation
fossil suggesting
the plans of a creature
trapped deep within
the geologic of these streets.
Tales and Songs
Intermezzo
of colliding continents
adrift amid star dances
&
cooking fires.
but I am faceless
wordless
save these words
'remember my love'.
what oracle lays waste
the scene before me?
Gatekeepers whisper
codes for passage
answers misunderstand
the crafted questions
of Delusion + Trickery.
Oracle, I call you whore!
Street slut spewing
the nightfuck of dogma
and excusing tales.
Silence!
No words are needed
for debased questions,
no sounds need utter
shameful flattery.
Enough!
Service instead
those lingering
Wordless
at the gates.
oracle 2
there is a gateway to humanity.
At one side, supporting the archway
stand I
and I know there is Another
on the Other Side.
But it is misty
And darkening.
and I can’t quite make out
Who stands there
oracle 3
there is a boy standing, watching me
in this room.
It is night I have just awaken
and there he is
in the middle of the room
amongst the deep shadows.
I am not afraid.
The boy makes no attempt to speak
yet I know the boy it seems.
Recent/distant past ?
Same boy waiting at a street corner
At the gate to a camp
Where god does not go.
but I entered. Blood and shit on my cock bones crunching my sole, bodies stepped over bloated pus filled creatures tugging, grave upon grave of laughing elite fucked children shiver blue and weep
But this is where god does go.
Now, where god isn't is without senses, a body I know not how to defend.
le pendue
of my own actions
do breezes chill?
or out there, beyond horizons
do forces lay,
beings cosmic that create
from the skins of heaven
and bones of earth
the temperates
and poles
in collision.
I spoke yesterday.
said of things from within me.
a conjuror I was
an alchemist I was
and so like words they were,
attempting to change
the Barren to Indifferent.
but soon l was left abandoned.
lingering & hanging
in the court of your glances,
your world redeems
not enough it seems
my world in orbit, swaying.
perhaps there is a strange sainthood present,
a Purity, cleansed by a Clarity
so clear it remains unseen
within moments
- lurking, stalking -
waiting to ensnare the meanings
unsaid last night,
but anticipating tonight.
le pendue II
our rendezvous with language.
words lynched, suspended
knotted ropes of intent
now choking, spewing
the Grand Struggle
collapsing
and kicking
briefly in the air
finally giving over
to the gentle sway
limp
and undecided.