Short Sacral Poems

Plucking my oud's sacral strings
her felt fingers glide across my neck
the goblet drums' frisky clicks
like an oasis nestled in the desert
Persia's striking sonority slices me like a scythe...

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With a sacral dimple you can't miss  


             he looks like a hand carved ivory Angel  


as I draw him close and feather him a kiss    

 
he gurgles with laughter, "I'm your Angel"    



Original Poem: My Little Angel 
Posted on October 8, 2020 
Sponsor: Gregory R. Barden for contest Rithimus Divisa 9...

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root to sacral
navel to heart
instincts gentled
in the cauldron of love
pauses for eternity

grace inpours
from the fontanel 
igniting the head ovoid
flowing along the throat
suffusing heart with bliss

the feral and ethereal
entwined transmutes dust
the ego that never was disappears 
and our true Self shines forth 
blurring all boundaries

here now in slow motion...

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secret flowers hidden in my chest 
ever day I wake up to do my best 
the prayers of yesterday still linger 
on my distracted, rolling fingers 
a sacral image tattooed with Grace  
etched upon my heart, Christs face 
no denomination here, just love 
properly suiting me like a glove; 
Sanctity cannot be seen but can be felt,  
a deliquesce thing that comforts, melts....

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looping our form lengthwise
over back along our spine
rising straight to crown
dipping to third eye
along nose to chin
jugular notch and heart
our navel, sacral and below
reconnecting with spine at root

our pranic energy grid pulsates
forming a seamless bliss band
of vibrant magnetic electricity
branching off all along form
that each cell be enlivened 
by Divine Mother’s caress
as benedictions divine...

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Must I quell this sense of curiosity
that leaves my arms open by grace ,
a never –ending brushstroke of chase.
I don’t know how this quest to break rules
relieves my moans as I look at birds fleeting
gliding, soaring. For whatever it is,
I am born from a rebel and angel's womb
gently accepting my sense of wonder
at my own sacral ease.



Any Poem, Any Subject
Sponsor: Anne Currin
by nette onclaud...

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Chakras correspondent to the earth plane
announce their presence as a reminder
that all attachments are not to rest lain,
as we blissfully go through life’s grinder,
requiring to make tender touch kinder.
Thus when fire of navel raises it’s head
or lustful sacral signals we’re ill bred,
impulses received, when distilled by heart,
relinquish doership since soul’s by love led,
whereupon animal cravings depart.

06-September-2022...

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Piece of flesh
by the road set
walking

under the meaningful end she keeps hidden emotions

it isn't hard
it was harder
it's all about habit

glance

across mottled side of saturnus
dogs are barking

glance

kneeling over sacral circle
bloody sun
pulsates

glance

through neck
squeezing routine
carnations 
have undressed the silence

everything she ever wanted was to 

clean faced
go to the grocery store
and buy 10 dag of cheese...

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It's true I deeded my heart 
that rapturous date
 Sacral vestments our carnal 
annuities did aggregate  
Bartered my dreams; title did 
abrogate
Twined our limbs; bonded our 
estate
But fealty with baggage did not 
equate
Your mercurial state brokered 
new rate
Your charming assets failed 
o'er time to appreciate
Frivolous investments virgin 
stock did depreciate 
Mounting liabilities did fidelity's 
cost inflate
Now tainted, discounted 
merchandise seeking rebate...

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Yesterday caught me thinking 
Of thoughts melodic and serene
Vivid in roused seance
Trembled navel
Full with anticipation 
From sacral to root
Drowned in downy bliss
Dissolved by whispers 
Within my hips 
Surveyed with gentle lips
Yesterday caught me thinking 
Of every salacious kiss...

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