You can call them He Or El or Shiva Or even Well… God…. Perhaps Electricity… I will say Sacred Salacious Spermatozoan SineWave SUperluminescent PsychoBioBabe Sparking Time For Selves at Play. You can call them She Or Magdalene Or Shakti- heavens Bride & Queen Goddess of EveryThing… Perhaps Magnetism… I will say Sacred Salacious WOmb of Creation Sultry SineWave SuperMatterMaterMotherMatrix Making Spaces For Selves at Play. The MagIC MagNet of MagNificent MagIcians So ELoquently ELevating ELemental ELect
In.perfect.matrimony. harmony.of.stars.as.shards. Of.wave-ing.bards. Sparked. Into.Partic.ulars.forming.worLds. As.words.disturb.the.silent.stillness. Of.the.Unobserved.as.the.raw.nerves. Of.magdalenes.body.exposes.pure. Mirrors.of.Magnetic.Seers.ELect-romantically. Sealed.into.secrets.pretending. To be. Here. Now. Breathe.
“We think in between the joints” Entire universes spread out like Time As Space hides Selves lost in sockets And held in rhyme, woven…wrenched From the mind and hidden in pockets Within the spine, the hips, The Shouldered relationships That bear the burden of Other Ways, to know here, to feel, hear And peel clear of stagnant flesh… Just one. More.Deep. Breath. Laying prone in a sea of flesh Held together by pure force of Will In a dance with past Feels and Reels That loop and tangle and twist As The feedback strangles the bliss Of Letting Go into the abyss Of the Space between The floor and Me As Self is reCentered in between The open Doors and open Seams Of I and Thou And dancing dreams. I release…. The tight grip That has ripped me apart For 41 years Held together by pure force of Will In a shifting atmosphere Of dizzy atoms here Playing tricks of light In a mind held so tight The body rebels… Swelling with the trapped rage In masked pages of the Word That Stages the painful dichotomy… Seams so loose It all spills out of me Chaotically I seem to lose autonomy Christened by the insistence Of my Fascial Lobotomy incised By internal programs That overRide Who I Am And climb thru the cavernous Space Between the Fleshy Creed That plays at Being Me…. It Dawns so suddenly The force of Feeling bleeds As pounding Heart Seeds frequencies Illuminating The maze that traps me…. Dramatic release…. A lifetimes unEase freed As the iron grip can no longer hold I leak right out of the mould And gather In a puddle of matter And Mater and Mother And matrix Of Self & Other And Open to the Fugue As the Swoon subsides…. And There I Am Peering In From Outside the Lines Where Dark matter Claims the Mind And Patterns The Play Of Somas Shame As it falls into the rhythm Of psyches Game.
A visceral reflection of how over muscled and controlled my Soma has been as a lifetime of the threat of puddling right out of my skin Has overcompensated To keep the chaos out( or in?) Hippos are meant to be soft And buoyant As they navigate the waters Of the emotional realm But mine has crystallized And been trained By the Martian masculine To grip so tight There is no room For darkness In the light Of Being. This I Know And See As I Do Now What is beginning To come Naturally. Let Go Into the Flow Of the See of Me Sew Seamingly slow And free.
The Thing is It’s never quite so simple as Bliss As lips part to whisper the kiss Of creation Elation drips in desperate twists Of sensation Buried in Underground Cells As maps to hell Turn ink to anger and Self To Stranger Hiding from the empty shell Of danger As One Thing Becomes AnOther
Where will this feeling take me Will it make me into love? The open noose Hangs like fruit From the ripened Wheel above My open mouth Crying out As milk of Mother spills in anger Over My tangled tongue