Like an orange inMy glass? I sip theFire, I drink and drinkAgain, I am drunkYes, but on the goldof suns, What noblevenom now flows throughmy veins and fills mymind with unhurriedlaughter? My worriesdoze. Wee bubblesringmy glass, like a bridesnervous smile, and meetmy lips. Dear, forgivethis moments lull inwanting you, the blurin memory. Howbrief the term…
At sunset, on the river ban, KrishnaLoved her for the last time and left…That night in her husband’s arms, Radha feltSo dead that he asked, What is wrong,Do you mind my kisses, love? And she said,No, not at all, but thought, What isIt to the corpse if the maggots nip?[from The Descendants]
Sky, remind me….oh, yes, hisMouth, and….his limbs like pale andCarnivorous plants reachingout for me, and the sad lieof my unending lust.Where is room, excuse or evenNeed for love, for, isn’t eachEmbrace a complete thing a finishedJigsaw, when mouth on mouth, i lie,Ignoring my poor moody mindWhile pleasure, with deliberate gaeityTrumpets harshly into the silence ofthe…
speaking words of lovein some tender language I do not know …With the crows came the morning, and my limbswarm of love, were once again so lonely…At my doorstep I saw a pock-marked face,a friendly smile anda rolleiflex. We will go for a drive,he said. Or go see the lakes. I havewashed my face with…
Not the raw seasons alone, and the homes left behind, butAlso her nature, the urge to fly, and the endlessPathways of the sky. It was not to gather knowledgeOf yet another man that I came to you but to learnWhat I was, and by learning, to learn to grow, but everyLesson you gave was about…
Be kind. You turn me into a bird of stone, a graniteDove, you build round me a shabby room,And stroke my pitted face absent-mindedly whileYou read. With loud talk you bruise my pre-morning sleep,You stick a finger into my dreaming eye. AndYet, on daydreams, strong men cast their shadows, they sinkLike white suns in the…
In his bones that made them grow in years ofAdolescence to this favored height; yes,It was my desire that made him maleAnd beautiful, so that when at last weMet, to believe that once I knew not hisForm, his quiet touch, or the blind kindnessOf his lips was hard indeed. Betray me?Yes, he can, but never…
Pale fingers over mirror-fieldsReapingThat wheat brown hair.BeautyFalling as chaff in old mirrors,While calendersIn allThe cities turn….[From Only The Soul Knows How To Sing]
Seem to stop their slow growingFrom within… But I tell my self, wordsAre a nuisance, beware of them, theyCan be so many things, aChasm where running feet must pause, toLook, a sea with paralyzing waves,A blast of burning air or,A knife most willing to cut your bestFriend’s throat… Words are a nuisance, but.They grow on…
Consumes and with each killing gains a wilder,Brighter charm, all that comes my way. Bald child inOpen pram, you think I only look, and youToo, slim lovers behind the tree and you, oldMan with paper in your hand and sunlight inYour hair… My eyes lick at you like flames, my nervesConsume ; and, when I…
