Leftover Tomorrows
Not just the yin and yang of life
Not just the perplexed and entangled
Not even the esoterically amplified deviations
Just the oxymoron nature of the beast
It’s the fashion of ascending and escaping
Of falling into the voids of the heart
When love transcends into emptiness
Our minds form designs to abstract
To gain wisdom teased from agony
From wakeful weaving of earthly plights
A roller coaster of leftover tomorrows
Inverse our perception of dancing tonight
Blossoming heart of the cosmos’ union,
With every connection to interstellar waves.
The path of All seems to wander aimlessly,
Leading nowhere except the oasis of mind.
Esoterically challenged, by the ambient soul,
We shine brightly in the spiritual realm.
In this physical form we are deluded,
To thoughts of limitations, we stop evolving.
Memories of past lives, in some lie extant,
Pushing back those intuitive emotions.
Believing that all can be quantifiable facts,
As artists strive to bring the magic back.
Falling behind while we waste our time,
Weighing the pros and cons to life.
Examining the exterior of the world,
Our direction now we believe we have found.
Populating propaganda like needing war,
Closing the door on the prophets before.
Seeking out wisdom from others that talk,
No longer do we run, walk or crawl.
* (Saturn is esoterically associated with the twelfth month of December)
… raining, raining! – disrobed heaven’s
chain of glittering tears
washing our earthen face, and
I raise my umbrella
thinking of you
in the shattered liquid glass
around us…
… warmth of our enveloping womb…
* * *
… let’s cross the *lyric mountains
to the sunset and beyond,
not satisfied until we reach
the dawn we
hold in each others hands…
* (for the Lerik Mountains in Azerbaijan)
* * *
… narcissists, your glorious eyes
feeding on me, boiling-ravenous
smacking lips,
glutted upon our saturnalian feast…
* (Saturn is esoterically associated with the twelfth month of December)
… I feel your clutching of the wraiths (ghosts) suspended
between us, serenade of
echoes,
writhing,
blindly agape – and I crouching on the curb
watching the road
baptizing its secrets with curses dripping
incinerated from our lips,
intoxicating myself on
a promise of smoke clutching,
clutching at the road
flooded
sotted, unspoken wraiths…
… twisting within the heat….
* * *
… the swell of sky and earth
is in the curve of your belly and lips
I teased with delicacies until
I stuffed them in your mouth
while you smiled as widely
as the springtime laughing
through the trees
awaking and unashamed…
* * *
… did we have a child?
no, but we whelped giggles
as shy as a bridal veil,
as bold as robbers
accomplishing the theft
of marriage nostril to nostril…
* (Saturn is esoterically associated with the twelfth month of December)
… when you are away
and I need you,
I look into the depths of the nearest flower,
even if it’s a dandelion, then
lie down beside it like a lamb,
a reborn lion satiated – and subdued
by your perfume, reveling in sweat of the conquest…
* * *
… our journey is swaying
through foreign moments, yet
familiar and near and darkly
shimmering,
perhaps burnished
by nector crushed from ebony pearls,
olive juice splashing
our astonished ogling of the nascent moon,
swaying under its hidden riddle and
tumbling into our abyss
of its soft-smoldering glow – simmering
rhythm of pearl-ebony…
* * *
… cities, those faceless monoliths, are cancers,
love an acid-sweet erosion stripping
bare the maze of our sinews
sobbing with resplendent excruciation, racked
across the bosom of pavement, concrete, glass and steel,
the blackened gems of our streets
fleeing ecstatic through our marrow
to blazing ghettos of the noon-high sun
gluttonously
hungry to be warmed – and
quenched, endlessly fed…
* (Saturn is esoterically associated with the twelfth month of December)
… it was snow,
cold-burning, scorching walls in the caverns of my mind
bleaching the bones of my soul
crystal-yearning of
ever-burning stagger along the adulterous breeze -
on frozen embers…
* * *
… access the night of
darkness beyond darkness
seducing the light to weave an unseen fabric
feathering against our skin,
you, with your head on my chest,
soulful
happy
peaceful and light…
… never forget to access the night…
* * *
… I see your face in satin spades
your heart in clover twined
around the pennywhistle of my tributes,
drums clubbing, whipping the wailing
river into frothy nostalgic nettles
prickling my flesh and shadows
watching your tavern rituals of guzzling my essence
before you ravished my unraveled ends in nearest parks,
and that before your parchment disappeared in white of the moon…
… your etchings left behind,
nothing erased…