You’ve been brought to feel,
The complexities of youth,
Each breath, unleashes sweetness for me
To taste, like wine of most fervent grapes.
When your eyes see upwards,
At the many Gods in their auras,
A gleam comes whisking you away
To where pain no longer resides.
For so much, you’ve desired their shape,
Their tune displayed in white harmony.
Eve had one shallow mind,
And a single torn heart.
Divided between the existence,
Of longing and belonging.
To view you next upon a cross,
Would make me most wise,
To be seated cross-legged,
Near your side.
And then, to watch the blood drain,
From daggers between your thighs.
I have been most unkind,
During the onset to revelation,
When Christ offered me one kind word,
To say to love you, upon the day of your death,
Would that be too late, my darling?
The bitter blood as sweet wine,
As rose buds hang firmly on your golden shoulders,
And their thorns have made a crown.
Denial and merriment go well,
Unto the aspect of my cherished Hell.
Poem – “The Many Tears that Seek Shelter” – Romantic
I fell beside thee,
And formed for us, quilt made of romance.
I love all that you are, of all eyes made to be orbs,
For the future’s peering, into its watery distance.
We sail in our fear,
And quake beneath tears,
Oh, how terrible are the stars under your eyes,
You’ve made a bed for us both,
A bed of love, made fullest in silken quilts.
Famed, we have become.
In love, we are as one,
As two creatures, of Buck and Doe,
A chase, a nest upwards in Heaven.
Oh, how desire sweeps us to the current and its edge
Near a river; for how does death think of us?
Love is a muse; It is made to be you,
As you are the loveliest pearl from this shore.
Give me kisses, sweet one,
Full of life,
Full of your eyes,
With no more raining stars,
With no more idle flesh,
No more death.
Nothing but the truly fascinating face,
Of white cheeks and bleak tress.
Lovely in form, anguished at heart.
I will cure the sorrow,
The one so much alike the Mary of Christ;
For how many times have we embraced,
As vulnerability! As vulnerability!
We are only made beautiful, when loved.
“Oh, love, when will be reach the shores,”
You ask to me.
I say in response to you,
“Soon as the sail is full of wind, and your eyes!
When they never fall another tear, we will reach.”
Give me the benefit of a morrow,
Of a delight, not made by sorrow.
What have I, when not among you?
Nothing, for am I not without the sanity,
And insanity, that love bequeaths.