Il Divino

Last night I watched his naked body

As it twitched restlessly in bed beside me
A silhouette directed by its phantom captain,

Stretched like canvas across the sheets
Painted in the static blue 
Light of a false moon;

I whispered aloud soothe him:

        When winter comes

                 The sky plays rhythm 

        The days are gray and

                 Night seems unending.

        Dream of the Sun instead

                 Returning on his chariot 

        Then remember to forget.

In his artificial peace,

From the endless toiling 

A well-earned reprieve

For a man who never stops to see 

He already has all he hoped to achieve; 

Stroking the cool, pale skin
Of my Michaelangelo's bare bicep

I let him sleep.

Though I know what he labors for

Is hard to get

        Love like this

                 Is harder yet.

Conquerers

What is a man's seed
But the substantive result of a need
To see himself individually

Reflected in the flesh,
Separately.
Believing only in what we see
We worship him for his virility

And this supposed act of sovereignty.

Although we may think she can only receive
The power of Earth's viridity

Lies in her ability 

To summon all seeds, 

Invisibly.

It is out of disbelief we call it an act of cruelty

When she then rejects as easily
What she does not need

Leaving to bleed 

That which was planted carelessly

Without her blessings.

Severance

By decree
With this sacred steel
I sever all threads
And release us immediately
From the burden we share;
Your load no longer mine to hold
Mine no longer yours to bear;
Once more we carry our own.

May your body 
Rest in peace
Now it is completely free.

Trust I've borne the weight faithfully
Cared for, polished, and coated with gold leaf
The bronze bones of your Abarkuh tree
Pruned its limbs to forever
Reach upwardly.

May our bodies
Rest in peace
Now they are completely free.

Sycorax Speaks

Come, Ariel
While Prospero sleeps

From the sea, I summon thee.

Are you ready?

Calling all turnkey men.

Are you ready?

I’m not furniture, don’t take a seat.

Are you ready?

I’m no doctor, bring your own medicine. 

Are you ready?

I’m no mother, this bounty belongs to me, only.

Are you ready?

Come, Ariel
While Prospero sleeps

From the sea, I summon thee.

Farmer

I confess an obsession:

Men with a penchant

For working the earth

Heavy hands

Whiskey lips

And eyes 

Wide with dollar signs

Their cum tastes like
Tobacco and honey
To them, I taste like

Divinity

How do they always find me?

No compass

No heartbeat

Still a moth will fly

Toward the blinking green light.

Little King

In my arms
I hold a little king

called Roshi.
Let him know the law of three. 
In his arms

A king holds me.
Let him know the law of three.
In those arms
He holds everything.

Gravida and Parity

Once I learned to calculate 
What is contained in a single soul
I tied a red thread around my wrist

To serve as reminder
Not to make a wish.

Surely it is natural that rage is my center
When under duress;

Souls move through fire, eating up the air
Pregnant with an emptiness
Unknowable without first
Having felt its fullness.

Instincts are earned

Through foolish mistakes;

It is the duty of the Priestess

To teach us

The alchemy of transmuting 

Knowledge from regrets.

The Lion I beckon

A golden feline full of pride

Will come in his own time

If I look away 

And patiently wait.

From the bottom of the ocean

I look up to see the Sun 

A vision of dancing rays 

Across turbulent surface waves

Filtered through the muddled deep

Like a message, 

Delayed.

Prayer for Fire Gods

My Djinn
My lover
My brother
My blood
In exile
We burn
Who could tell me different?
Only a liar. 
We speak only truth here
For we know beauty and pleasure
Comes from the nakedness of birth.
Chosen forms built from Earth 

Fraught with doubt,
Untrustworthy.
Our kind listen 

Not to those frantic human thoughts
For we know it is the flow of our electricity
What animates these limbs of meat.

Dii Consentes

Describe
The piece of you
That doesn’t belong
In here.

A smile

With no face. 

The bird 
Becomes the air.

The arrow

Burns to ash.

The heart

Runs for office. 

Blue velvet 

Lines the coffin.

A shadow on the Sun sets fire to the Moon

Through the invisible barrier
Between me and my wildest dreams
He sees clearly
And calls me in the middle of a thought
Breaking up the clouds
To show me
How.

He draws an elegant map
With all the starts
And forms the finish—

Energy reader
He sees me
And hears the discordant engines
My mind runs on
Soothes them with 
Just one slip of his tongue
The cogs then sing
In a tune
One I could listen to
Cycled on infinity—

And that's how you write a poem
About someone
Who makes you happy
For once
And only now
I realize
I've been fighting
My whole life
For control
Over this vessel
But I hand it over to him
Willingly
And sleep, finally
Knowing

With certainty
No better hands exist.

[If this seed bears fruit
I'll know because I won't ever need to tell you.]

The act of breathing

You cannot love someone 

unless you're willing to be destroyed.

Love is humiliating,
juicy, dirty, sloppy;

I guess what I'm saying is,
I want you to cum on my face,
Then keep on fucking me
From behind,
Hands tied.

Spark

Lit by the attention of a fire-wielding stranger
Piercing through dimensions,

How admired 

Was our otherworldly glow

Glittering with the might and ferocity
Of temporal earnestness.

Between gentle forefingers and thumbs,

How tenderly we were held

As we burned to blend with the earth and wind;
How fast, how fatal, we were loved.

Taste This Perfect Offering (Hebrews 10:5)

If I called them by another name
Could I make saviors of these demons?
What is sacrificed, what is gained

This alchemy is for the sake of harmony within

If being a woman in the world is painful enough
Why bring a child into it?

Adjusting will for equilibrium

I choose to use it for creation

Of my own secret weapon
Receptivity is an action, neither passive nor inert

Oh, Kindly Ones, taste the sweet burn 

Of nitroglycerin upon your tongues

As I secrete my inexhaustible sense of self.

Joy

With transfigured gentleness
She parts with a loving kiss
Fortune already in flight
In a moment of bliss, she is absent
But always returns holding hands
With sadness.

Untitled

A dog trots beside its owner

Like a well-trained soldier
The metal tags around its collar jangle
In syncopated rhythm 
I hear this with my human ears
And wonder how mine must sound
In the celestial realm.

Barren

Spring brings a fog

That cradles our belief

That home is not just an elusive boundary
Of imagined comfort and safety
An illusory hope, a mirage
But one we manifest concrete (or so we think)
With four walls, a two car garage...

The dead of winter clears the mind

Time slows, allowing for new sight

And we remember this is our sickness unto death;
Just like Thomas Wolfe said:
You can never go home again.

Return, return in the fall I did

To see what I'd left behind

A full season between us 

I walked for miles in a straight line

Searching the shore for your black truck,

Trying to imagine what it was

That had made you love this patch of beach so much.

Ready to give up, I rested by the surf to watch the osprey hunt

Many moments passed, yet none appeared

And I thought to myself,
"I'd never go fishing here."