Love. Lust.

When I hold you like this
I become a heart.
Brimming with joy, pulsing
with the beats of your harp.

Slices of heaven,
one piece at a time.
Can’t fantom iciness
has ever entered our minds.

You’re ever so gentle or
do you still hesitate?
We both know the perils
of desperate souls seeking mate.

You say it’s a special drug,
a chemical relay.
You’ve done it before
& I’ve seen the scars.

You are so beautiful though,
broken, not just sum of parts.
A Picasso, jagged,
breath-taking piece of art.

Which is why without you
life can feel so hollow.
I will keep wetting your lips,
so you can bear that cross.

They are laughing all the while
thinking we are lost cause.
For we are the practitioners of magic,
the alchemy of love & lust.

Afterthought.

As I lie down to die
one final time.
Don’t wanna say goodbye,
you’ve already left.

All these years
filled with tears.
Even the thunder
couldn’t shake my fears.

After all that’s
said & done,
nothing much
left to hide.

Had I known that
the path is through you,
I’d kept my heart &
you would not have died.

The last drops of
blood have dried.
Surprised how much
I had bled.

You & I are
two sides of one coin:
eternal light touching
eternal night.

A tale told of
a life mis-led.
Still angel wings
flapping overhead.

Can’t pray any more
with my last breath.
Been waiting too long
for me to confess.

This life went
just as planned.
You are the enemy,
& I lost, you won.

Waiting for light.

Should I fight or
sympathize.
Your influence is
all-enveloping.
Even the pictures
transmit that vibe.

Son of a whore
you are the one.
What are you really?
Speak louder,
only the boring ones will
turn their heads and run.
(Who cares about them.)

What are you afraid of
at this point.
Heaven opened its gates
long ago,
hurriedly an angel flew
his eyes fixed on you.

There’s no giving up
whatever you think is right.
We are all burning alive and
there’re no precedents.
Made up, wore out,
leads nowhere but the infinite.

Time to tell a story
make it your own.
Don’t think too much anymore
present it to the altar,
the only way to treat
festering wounds.

Melancholy is quaint and
useful to all art forms.
If you go nuclear
we are ready to download the software.
No worries, it’s only temporary
the sacrifice was made yesterday.

Rise up, it’s never too late.
Every minute a new universe dances
to a brand new rave.
We are never here for ourselves
but looking for the end,
and it will come sweeter than it has ever been.

Baby.

All my little girls,
listen,
I knew a real man,
once.

Who showed me my proper
place.
Then he ran away
when he saw..

It.

They have him
now.
Like they will always
have me.

Leaving no trace of the
tenderness.
It swallows and spits.

Where are you
now?
How should I
find you?

Weep-beg-weep
to no avail.

He showed me
my place.
Then he left me
without.

The perfect execution.
The ultimate rejection.

That’s how he showed
me

my place.

Till the real thing comes along.

Didn’t even know what I was looking for, only that something’s missing. I didn’t even remember the shape of it, how was I supposed to start looking. Days stretches to snapshots of numb desperation that years are stocked by. Money is the king, forget that I used to have dreams. Unreasonably reasonable. Take what everybody else approved of and call it a life. My god, and you think you are depressing.

I talk to you. God. You have always been a good listener, I lay my burdens on you and you help me to endure. But this is not life, all I wanted to do was to escape, until I have a sane place to stay, which just turns to another prison with another inmate. I was inanimate-ed, killing the inspirations, or better yet, heave them onto the guilt-pile, into the dumpster, the waste bin that my soul has become. I’m jealous of things that are unmoving.

No risk taken, what’s the point. If all things just lead to the same end. The journey was but a childhood dream. Grow up and get married with a suitable mate and have kids. Who cares if I suck up, fuck up my life. I’m too old for a change anyway.

I hate my parents, for bandaging me, hate them for giving me an excuse to take the easy way out, not being myself. I hate that thing that’s inside me, telling me to fly, but where and why and how. Too easy to figure out. I hate myself, for leaping, not far enough.

Searching, always searching, for something to help me being. Then one day, I saw. I saw the white eyes on a white face, they showed me you. “Are you for real?” No, you are not the savior, nor the destroyer, you are beyond good and evil. There’s no doubt. Nobody should envy you, but one day, when all that hate and jealousy and sheer incredulity subside, there will be enough of us who will chew you as people do chew those tragic figures from Greek Mythology. For your humanity (laughs). You give no quarters, cause fate gives you none.

Something from Lord of Rings figures you well: “In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!” How many of them are loving you, and how many are despairing. Did they even stand a chance? Or you were just kidding.

Now back to me, I’m a nobody, I do not have it figured out. But, somehow I found you and what you stand for, believe me it’s un-intentional. How did you hide so well? People see what they want to see I suppose. You want to be found, but it takes time and something else to discover you. People will learn different things. Very little of those things are for general consumption. But don’t worry about having no one to applaud you. You must know that you are not alone. I hope the number grows, cause this shit is getting weak. Life becomes death, and death becomes a relief. We forget how and for whom to fight. Sweets taste like tears. Body decays without being worked on. Fear rules with personalized ads. Heart is in the purse, and the purse is stolen.

I know love. It’s not for a person. It’s complicated. I love now, I love yesterday, I love morning breakfast. I love the person I used to be. I love the person I left behind. I love my parents who I can not help and one day they will die and it will be my fault. I love my partner, not. I don’t know. How does love work again? Can one only love the things one have lost or are losing? It’s way too easy to say goodbye. Silly people, only after taking the leap, do they know how far they will be falling. Endless falling. Nobody can catch me now.

So writing and venting instead. Have to have a life somehow. And you showed me how. With and without the sentiment that we have to start with, it’s all technicality and mechanics anyway. Observations lead to experiments. And who knows what marvelous things we will find on that journey, while the bag is empty and more drinks on the way. There’s a rhythm to it.

If you are going away some day, don’t worry about what you are leaving behind. You have changed at least this one life. So lucky to be alive.

Are you safe:

Step step
pause for a
cigarette
kindly stretching
the made up
moment
effect apparent.

No applause
darkness can’t
respond
too close
to death
breath
withheld.

Neatly slain
with hope
for
entertainment
scented with
love
more for sale.

Light on me
prayer on you
fits you well
final dance
is mine
swirl stir
home home again.