masterpiece

will of the self
wholley blessed
blessed by holy saint hands
blessed by the sunshine and warmth of love in friends
blessed to realize there is so much left to realize
entanglements enrich life
but the line can choke even the purest of intentions
and until someone musters the strength
to use the healing sword and cut free
the two are breathing in the same space
a beautiful place
bubbling restlessness
not unlike the ocean heaves
the knots in the sailwind
the knots in the deep belly
unwind a bit with solitude
but only increase yearnings to belong to something
eternal
something i can hold and not leave unfulfilled
to understand this journey i contemplate the masterpieces carefully
and you are one of them

blood stirs years past

The power of the living
I want to drink a tincture
smooth on a salve, a balm
form a concoction
I want to seduce
to call upon my senses
on a whim or a well studied endeavor

I intend to end any tantrum that tempts me
Invoking instrospective peace
calm in the eye of a storm
thats where you'll find me

shaking and banging the smiles of excitement
rapturous sunshine
clear bellowing breaths full
these are my exaltations
this is what will stir my blood

years ago

I work hard
I play soft
I entangle in moments
with a dance
often awkward are
my attempts to love
when I lean on a
shadow and I begin to tip over
you right me only to find
when you touch me
i'm electric
nauseous from feeling
the empty dark

when two become one
how sacred and massive
like a mountain
the power it takes to move
how violent
the earth quakes
when ground is split
how the heart spirits flee
and scatter
emerging later
doe eyed
almost ignorant of the damage

and yet sinful
innocence is a game
we play with ourselves, a hide and seek

only honesty frees from misery

jump start

my body attempts to remain unattended
skin softens and heartbeat steadies
each layer constricts to protect the rooted core
he touches me and then i disappear

his body attempts to shield a rhythm
in measures of approaches, descents, and departures
postures, a lingering over, primitive movement
i touch him and he melts, a hardened metal into liquid

our bodies attempt to believe a dialogue
dictated doctrine from the pages of
a manual: to Live in Totality
where our individualized dreams are encoded

it is the touching of opposite wires,
which sparks, melts vision, and disappears