I am Streaming silent Radiant longing; I am streaming helpless prayers I am pretending to tear down all the fragile dams so tenderly built to protect your precious treasures
I love your mind’s measures, it’s restless order calls to me, come to follow and I will take your lead take me to our love that brings us to meet in temples where the sun still sleeps in ancient stillness among tombs,
I love your reason’s wise madness, I love how it breaks and re-constitutes me into your architecture of passion, this is the price of your love saved up and mine taken at the cost of my life,
You living like a lonely child inside the pit of my heart, I love you even when I am a veil of rain inside your laughing eyes, I love you with purest unity, portioned without cut and without any returning to my destiny
I love how your love takes us to the sharp dangerous edges of your soul, nearby, our guardian angels bend down in blessings as every safety promised by God is allowed and made manifest under your stern gaze, and I inside your heart, this is where I sleep, forever here.
As a Light that always goes In front, if I take you by the hand, will everything be suddenly simpler? The people, nicer, their wordy evils turned to hardened lava under their tongues, yes, as everything is done by the hand.. take my hand under this lamplight of love,
as from the black clouds, rubies and gems pour out , as from my eyes your bottomless sorrows fall into me; without your face before me, as beneath each darkness of my eyelashes, gardens bloom from blood rains pouring down around my booted soul,
my love, what does a bubble in the ocean know about the sea? what does a handful of sand know about the desert? Books are destroyed, statues pulled down, banned poems break like glass ..what would even a child learn from all of this desolation?
I just want to be as a child for you, as a Light that always goes in front, I will take you by the hand until we are both transparently, light as light as places that have no names in being, as essence as far from evil just so you can stop and wait for me.
Blushed eyelids, stripes of kohl.. Colors of stigmata inside caved silences violet stained red, horizons of absence, this world is not mine
The trees of Eden do not grow in this Garden and the soft breaths and the heaving bosoms of flowers ignore my begging, claiming, but yes!, you are the fruit of roots growing out of deep nights descending the blind stars
Oh great Mother Night! daughter of Mercy, pity
our mechanical Egyptian arms, our drunken glass eyes turned to the walls, reading hieroglyphs between the drawings, laughter reigns over this underground cavern of souls our days of invention crashing soundlessly our earthenware bearing resemblance to the shamelessness of all shareable destructions
I belong to the tribe of those who dwell in radiant darklight dawn, Nights and days with eyes open under the unbearable blinking of the sun, watching for signals in the sky,
The shadows of a dozen dazzling eclipses on the face of time, the whitelit thunderings from God raging against a painted planet’s eyelashes
I’m on fire, I am reduced to ashes The blooded bird takes her flight disappearing inside a skylit ring worn on the hand that paints the soft grains in between light and darkness: I live inside the eyes of a world the eyes of a world where a man takes no prisoners when he dreams.
The demon of mockery dragged you into the dust to defile the noblest image of humanity.
The spirit of this world is eternally at war with all that is beautiful all that is good and great: it does not believe in God or in celestial spirits, it wants to steal from the heart all its treasures, as it destroys all beliefs by attacking all illusions.
But poetry, of humble birth like you, is also a pious shepherdess; She covers you with all the privileges of her divinity, she surrounds you with a procession of stars, and spreads her glory around you …
O you that God’s heart made you will live immortal!
The world likes to obscure everything that shines, to cover everything that rises with it’s mire. But fear nothing!
There are still good hearts which quiver with sublime and generous actions; Momus delights the multitude, a noble spirit cherishes only noble things.