Month: April 2019

Power needs no explanation
She is beyond moral and
Outside justification.

She either gives Herself
Or She remains out of reach
According to Her own wisdom
Without any need
To be understood
Or even perceived.

She flows or she rests
She gives and she gets
She blossoms, retracts
She waits and she acts

She owes nothing
She owns nothing
She plans for no moment
But This.

-…-

My heart tumbles

To be so vulnerable
To feel such need
Reach out in desperation

Emptiness
Emptiness
A gentle hand

To grasp
Hold fast
Draw close
To be held, touched, moved, lifted

Falling
Cracking
Fear
Bounty
Beauty
Healing
Overwhelm
Falling
Fear

I was a rock, my own foundation
Now I have felt the grace
of raw vulnerability
of being held

How can I ever go back?
How can I gain footing here?

She speaks

How vulgar
Is the crowd
Scurrying
Intently gathering
Organizing
And planning.

Seeking advantage
Anticipating
Perseverating
Calculating
Conniving

Ordering finery
Well dressed
But petty
Nonetheless

Slaves.
Afraid of death
Small. Bounded
Contracted
Bereft.

So speaks
The Beggar Queen
Lady of Instinct
Dressed in next
To nothing
But pride,
Defiance,
Sun touched and
Sugar blushed
Riot.

Crowned with
Glowing Hair
Jeweled eyes
Opened Wide
Drinking light and
Feasting Night.

So speaks She
Who loves Life
And welcomes Death
Who loves Death
And welcomes Life
Who opens wide
Her long legs
And welcomes Fate
Impregnate
Her sacred womb
With monsters
And Saviors
With Heroes,
And Liars,
Debasers
And Thieves:
Whatsoever please
The ravening
unraveling
Nature of Things.

The lust of the Destroyer
Inhabits my bones
And flavors my Sex
So She comes
prolifically
With the image
Of being used up
And wasted.

I want to be a body
And a function
Of Sexuality
That supersedes
Personality’s
Preference
For cleanliness
Over compulsion.

I want to give myself
To be taken
And beaten
And broken
Thrown out
Forgotten
Left dead
And Rotten
Blessed
Digested
And spread.

I despise the
Prudence
That would advise
Protection,
Discretion
Those Makers
And Keepers
Who scorn me
Dispersing
Dissolving
My essence
To chaos
And boundless
Undiffer-
Entiation

I despise those
Guards and
Protectors
Who bid me
To build high
My walls
And concretize
My boundaries
And lines.

I despise
Not because
I am Right
But because
I am Needed.

My gods
Bid me
Stay free and
Berth wide
those Wisdoms
Of Beings
Who maintain
Separation
And forestall
Devastation
And keep shit
Together.

Wisdom conserves
Wisdom disperses

Some belong to the One
I belong to the Other.

Noblewoman by birth,
I live to go under.

Make him come as the winged bird comes
To the sun-warmed, sugared budding
To the sunlight, jewel-bright crimson
Of my Earth Star lighting hearth fire
Of my deep Earth growing lightning
In my flick-tip snake lick spine

Make him come as the roaring lion comes
To the fate-struck, mistook leg-ling
To the felt hipped running bellows
Of the grass-fed, tit-lipped youngster
Of the lost now just born wanderer
By the grass shored, blue-stripped waters

Make him come as the new born sun comes
With the bounteous faith of morning
With the gold-lined, gem set sky line
And the blue-light, white cloud warming
Of the ever loving earth queen
As the wordless, sex-blissed maiden

Make him come as the frozen night comes
As the over reaching crystals
Spreading ice white, slick like carpets
Over every open surface
And the morning breathers rising
To watch vapors leave their mouths.

Make him come like you make the spring come
To the cold and silted sand banks
Of the singing river waters
And the red wrapped buds holding rank
On the spindly, silk shone branches.
Smell the warming smell of earth.

Smell my warming, churning earth.

Make him come like the sliding worm comes
through the caves and hollow leadings
Both around and through the earth.

Make him come like my will has power
Make him come like my wishes matter
Make him come.

What makes suffering?

Ideals
And
The conceit
Of Will.

If I cannot perform
At levels sublime
Should I not dance?

If I do not know
The answer
With complete
Confidence,
Should I not think?
Or wonder?

If I am not the best
Ought I not even use
My best
To access
What experience
Is in fact
Available to me.

If I do not make blissful
Orgasmic sex
Reuniting the male and
female divine
Through the love I find
Should I just abstain?
Remain
Dry?

If I am imperfect
Am I also disallowed
To try
To be
with whatever
I can reach
Even if it doesn’t
Look the way
Your better goodness
Seems.

If I am not as good
As you say I should be
Should I just then give up
On Being
Or simply suffer
Self-Improvement
Long enough
For you to see me
As redeemed.

Then will I be worthy?
Of the love you now
Withhold from me.

I don’t want to be a woman.
I want to be a girl.
I don’t want to grow up
(or grow out).
I want to be tall,
thin, strong and young.
I want long hair
in a thick braid.
I want a bow,
I want arrows
and a hunt.
I want a lion and the moonlight.
Or a torch in the dark night.
And the world to myself
and my wonder.

I don’t want a job.
I don’t want a family.
I don’t want to be
Some man’s employee
Or some child’s mother
Some woman’s protege
Or some man’s lover.
I don’t want definition
Or obligation
I want my impulse
My leisure and my strength.

I want a hard belly
And small breasts.
A pillar for a waist
I want narrow thighs
On strong legs.
And large eyes.
Tanned skin,
Strong hands,
And broad lungs.
Lithe arms
And hard ribs.
A corner in my jaw
That makes men wait to think
Before they reach to touch.

I want to run,
And to climb.
I want to swim and to lie
In the noontide sun.
I want hounds
And the laughter of my sisters
All around.

I want my own right
Without condition.
I want to own my own life.

My Queen,

Whatever you want me to know,
I want to know
Whatever you wish to keep in the Mystery,
I wish to keep in the Mystery too.

I am empty for You.
I am wanting only You
Outside it is cool.
The moon is quiet
And I am waiting for You.