I’m Not a Love Poet, but Damn I’ll Worship a Goddess

She paints the world a beautiful hue:
Reds, yellows, black, and blues.
How can I ask for more of one
Who already gives the day more than the sun.

From whom’s light, like marble, she does carve
The winds, and rains which do fill
My lungs with breath, and wets my tongue
With desire to explore all the life she gifts
Forth from the dive into her depths,
The folds and crevices of her lovely landscapes.

I can see it with my eyes closed, and hear it in the silence;
Her beauty turns my thoughts, my heart beats wild like a fire,
and somehow her voice soothes these weary hands,
Inspiring my soul within, spark of a creator, to build.

Take me down, all the way down tonight

Quotes for Quenching – 14

“She showed up, tragic and beautiful, with a kind of necessity for which I was grateful to her. She was wearing a dark red dress, and a very pretty black hat with a net, which gave her a fateful look – the look of a woman still young but already marked by life.” – Simone de Beauvoir, from Letters to Sartre

A look to the sky and my eyes could not tell the difference between the light that stood before me, and the one that hovers above all our days. I stood immediately in awe of the rise that comes in rays through the blinds: My mind quickened, “She must like tea, why have I not readied tea already.” She could read my elated spirit, for I basically spoke to her of it from the doorway as I sent out the telegram about how she got me reflecting on the way I stood, and checking my breathing to make sure I was doing that still. She laughed and said, “I know you only get this disheveled at the start, you’re really much cooler than you know.” At this time I could feel my Amygdala pulling on my color, what a good read – I settled in to myself and shot her a smile, “Dear you do know me better than most, let me get you a cuppa.” As I turned and motioned her to come with me I realized that this is as far as we’d ever come. Never did she go further than the foyer, no, she had always been content with standing in my doorway; Playing me like Philip Glass’ Metamorphosis I – And then heading off before II-V could be wrung out – What audience could go on content after such a whetting of tongue? She came to a soft halt, “Dirty, won’t you take my hand for such a momentous occasion as this? “Tea?” I wryly remarked as I turned my gaze to her. Twitterpated, she shot me some quick sarcasm, “Yes, tea; All the tea in China.” Now isn’t it, “Not for all of the tea in China? Laughing as she tugged my arm, she gave me a look that to this day is crystal clear, one of those “You won’t pass this up, not for all the tea in China,” looks.

Now hold on, hold on, hold on.
What is it?
Are you kidding me right now?
I don’t kid.
You are completely off the wall.
I really am.
You know what I meant mate.
Oh, I read?
That is not a look you can read.
I swear it.
Yes, tea; All the tea in China.
I didn’t pass.
I bet you sure as hell wouldn’t
Well I did say.
Not for all of the tea in China.
Come on now!

Hold no jealousy over a nap that lends no rest for it is as empty as the gesture of closing my eyes to sleep these days. She walked in on me in a dark place

I’m Going To Take You Into The Dark

Now I’m afraid of what she finds in the dark, as I’ve seen her crawling, and sprawling me with her arms.
Do you know dangerous? Have you ever been trapped in a labyrinth? Would you walk straight into the dark and trust your senses – or would you put your hands out afraid to leave the wall? I’ve got words for her that describe a horrible tragedy beautifully, and she’s looking like it. Wonder if there is any point to all this? I’m sure death could be such a point, but only for a moment – I guess the only question that matters is, “Is the grass wet?”

I’ve begun to feel that the drugs are a way to think;
I’m beginning to think that the drugs are a way to feel;
Your body pressed hard against my frame, at this rate
It seems no matter what I pick up, I can’t put it down
My reason neglects it or I’ve got a good one to abuse
Told you do it right, so your eyes change and light up

Burn these clothes off to get our souls off, awakening
Standing in the rain and I’m all lightning up, every oz,
Of love is another 28.35 grams I’ll hit of us till it’s gone

You want more, this bank is always open,
Walk through that door even if you’re choking
Want some air, there’s none of that here
Only what you need; Come and get lifted.

“Come and get lifted”

Oh you missed the hues you couldn’t see with the lights on didn’t you

Au Revoir

You’re falling asleep. Come on sleepy head, don’t fall asleep – Get up, come on. I closed my eyes.

Maybe something is wrong with me; You know what happens when you invite doubt to have a drink. The bastard runs with it and next thing you know he’s married to your thoughts; You find yourself double checking things you’re certain of; You find yourself with the right answer afraid to pull the trigger; Aimed at the mark, but you strike just off center.

Come on sleepy head, now you’re falling asleep on me – I wanted to spend time with you, you’re passing out. I know, I know I’m sorry, you said. – It’s okay baby I know you’re busy. It’s okay. I kiss her forehead, and do my best to quell the urge to put my lips on every inch of her tired body.

Lay with me. I want you to lay with me. You’re the palette of the human soul. Everything is waiting on you darling. My heart stays calm, my hands do not shake; It’s entirely clear whoever said it first had to of touched the mud at the bottom. When you meet the right people you will find everything that you had previously felt uncertain about is of no real concern. Take some water, be sure to pace your breathing. You have to take this slow. I’ve gone fast, and you saw where it landed me.

You know me… I don’t mean to be misleading. I don’t intend to say that the right people will always lift you up. Sure, they certainly can, and I know that you’ve at times felt the disillusions diminish; Still, with the bitterest of sweet tastes, circumstance will call us to our best. We will slip, we will fall, often learning more about ourselves as we come down than when we finally begin to climb once more; And most when we crash through what we had thought to be the bottom,

You are so new – Your smell unstained by any past experience – A place in this giant blur that I’ve never known before, but familiar still; Is that even possible? Are you going to heal my soul? Don’t wait up. I didn’t think so. Man I’m so high I think I love you. You probably don’t understand what I mean.

There was something in me I sought to control. I found control was not in my favor. There was something in me I wanted to direct. I found myself hesitant. There was something in me I let flow, and down the river it goes

You probably don’t understand what I mean.

Well You’ve Gone & Stolen The Wrong Pillar

Will you understand it all upon first glance?
No, I doubt it. There is far more here than words.

It is with great irony I believe, that the last thing to leave most of us is our ability to grip this earth; Perhaps it’s so that the stubborn among us will not even upon death grasp the purpose of their life without a fair effort.

We are loving, but together we’re incompatible love – Although recent growth has shown promise of future beauty, your nerves remember; They shutter without speaking, and it is a deep choice to go against fair warning. I am not of such arrogant hubris to request that strength; I would never ask you to travel to such depths. But it is a place with a calming allure; If you ever feel the desire to dip your feet in the water once in a while – Go ahead tell me it ain’t so sweet – I wouldn’t mind feeling a little closer to your side of things when you close your eyes and see the place where you used to be alive.

I don’t remember my dreams when I sleep anymore. I’d like to think that it is because my waking hours are so incredibly exhilarating to each of the senses that there is no need for my soul to dream. I am there in my heaven each moment I am awake, stepping cloud to cloud! It may be that for all I do during the day, my weary mind begs me to give it reprieve; Yes, I always decline, and so it does the best it can quieting the night allowing me to go along the way I have chosen. I do consider my choice here to have potential for alarm. To put your success in the hands of human choice isn’t the most confident of bets – collectively we’ve all made choices; Look at how that turned out. My confidence in myself moving forwards does work to put it all at ease. Observation would tell you I’ve never been one to go for ease though.

I like that side of her; That side that wants to pretend it didn’t happen. That means it did and she’s thinking about it; That means all of this is a hard choice – That means it is something worth considering against the contrary. She was talking, clearly, always clear, but she chose to say this quietly as if to make sure I was really listening – And I was. I didn’t have to listen, but I wanted to. I wanted her to speak until the entire world lay asleep except for me, following the senses through her wooded foothills of cognition. I would give of my time, and keep the ceiling from caving in while she read from her scrolls. Sure the shelves were burning down around us, but this was what I wanted to put it all towards – The preservation of peace and true wonder, a mystery that would never be solved, for a bit longer. Then, without need for anything more, I would leave the woods as sacred as I had found it. I would leave it more peaceful than when I had entered.

Shaping The Clay; Myself

I feel the best time to create is when you’re hungry; They call us starving artists: It’s actually quite ironic since they are the vapid ones starving for our minds – hungry; I’m being sarcastic. It’s sad how they smoke like an empty pot – All their money can’t afford them a meal as this; I put marks to any medium, and I am fed. How could I ever be hungry? I’m the creator; I pull my own fucking ribs out, birth my equals, and if I choose to, I swallow them whole and put them right back. I am not looking for your justice. I am not looking for your empathy. I am looking for the blood, sweat, and tears that give way to the culmination of an entire cold pressed life; At the end you will drink it – Not one drop will go to waste.

I’ve watched the soft way my tools begin to shape you
You don’t take the direct route – No, you choose patience.
You don’t appear immediately in the initial stray lines.
We take our entire evenings for these types of beauties.
Watch intuitive understanding slowly pull you out of nothing
I’ve had my eyes focused intently on your ripening form
I’m not sure what else I’ve noticed today,
aside from the subtleties that make you – You.
That soft desire, your fiery demeanor when I strike you up,
I press hard on the lead to accent it all with the right cuts.

Emotionally intelligent people fuck up too, and because they understand so much more – It can be said that they fuck up far worse. The thing is their gift never comes with just the ability to read the emotions of others and feel deeply the hearts of those around them – No, emotional intelligence is not developed and honed in that way – You are not born with such a soft quality. It requires consistent shattering, to learn from navigating one’s own fissures. Knowing of your own faults, so that you might not overlook them when relating with those you engage with, is key; Wading at the edges of the river is not enough; Only those who have drowned in their own depths truly understand the emotions.

You forget to pause when the river waters surge so rapidly,
It’s about breathing correctly and not allowing yourself to fall behind.
Clearly it’s all timing, but at a deeper level it is so much more.
You aren’t just in the right place at the time moving along at pace;
No you have to hit a full breath as you make the stroke across,
Followed by a hold at the top not too long, nor too brief;
Allowing preparation for your exhale and waving of your wrist.
It very much matters what your other hand is doing, in the case that only one holds the tool.
It must be relaxed – Not completely though – Everything must be relaxed.
You’re not forgetting to breath now, right? See, it’s hard to follow along here.
I still have things to learn. I know what it is I’m doing, but until I can teach you I’ve got things to learn

In this bed you will find everything you fear and love.
It just comes down to whether you will settle for less than you deserve;
If not then you must take to action, Since not settling requires effort.

I Could Be Dangerous Or Just Your Daydream

She can sing to me till I melt into the seat leathers of the universe baby

I’ll write while she bites my neck,
Only the true death will do for me

I’ve got pink blossoms floating on,
Take off your songs my deep love,

Put on your heart strings, I can pull em;
Let down your hair some, hard drive,

We’re in a place the average reach for,
so go ahead and get down on the floor
Load up your bearings,
you’re the Cardamaro to my Orange Bitters and Scotch

I’ll bring you down on the rocks,
Unfurl your locks across the dock

Making love before we make it out of the waters.
Now we’re on the shores with a star cover blanket.

Jelly fish drifting along your skin – I could cover you in sweet stings,

But I’ll just lay beside you and pull you like the moon does.
You’re an ocean.
Now I’m dancing on this whiskey barrel,
Rolling my tongue along your river,

I can feel your tire swing visions pulsing through your arteries;
Let’s ride until we kill the batteries.

You Are The Goddess – I Will Be What I Can

You are the goddess of your calm and storm.
You deserve the world gilded:
yet you don’t want the treasure
for you possess more in value; it’s all within you!
Great spirit, greater than all the tyrants of history
have ever thieved from their own

That is to say, goddess you are a giver.
You will give until the infinite river runs dry,
and that is eternal for your nature will never lie.
– IV

Yeah maybe you’ll never see her again, but let me ask you this…
When life gets busy how often do you remember to look up at the sky?
How often are you reminded that you are a part of it all? Exactly.
You forget, and just as easily as the stars fade from your sight;
So does this.

Always though, regardless of how long it takes, we come back to the stars.
We look up at some point and think, “Damn, sure is beautiful.”
You don’t cry because you look up at the stars. You smile.
You smile hard. Then you go back to living. It’s beautiful – We’re always the stars.

If I Could Save One Book From The Destruction of The Library At Alexandria It’d Be You

There are plenty of books I’ve always wanted to read.
I’ve perused here and there; telling myself soon I’ll sit.
It’s become clear the only book I’ll get deep in, is you.
You opened up, and since the first line, I’ve struggled.
Closing you, like crawling from bed after an entire fifth.
Chapters infused with tea and tequila; Stained scents
powerful enough, evoke voices to mind, laughter’s joy
Printed in hugs and kisses you’ve put your soul upon
Water color illustrations done with times you’ve cried.
Clearly you won’t let the beauty of real pain go in vain.
Every time I pick you up, you’re better than I recalled,
Constantly adding pages bound in early morning rays,
Your plot elevates, and I swear if there’s a come down
I haven’t actually read to that part, but I fear no worry,
The way you make me wait for what I’m anticipating!
You’re a loaded six-gun, you’ll reveal great mysteries;
The way you’ve got moonlight dancing across the Nile,
I’m raised at every moment of the night, so worthwhile
After just thumbing your spine, you’ve piqued curiosity
Exploring you like a lost temple, uncovering knowledge
Through you the blind do become sighted, I’ve ignited
If your binding were any hotter I fear It’d catch on fire
Even then, with burning desire, my hands got it covered
– IV

Desacralization has occurred across the lands &
Many have begun to feel the glow of magic fade.
Yet, there can be no loss where hope still clings!
I’ll consecrate the way; a return to hallowed days

What’s Not Forbidden is Compulsory

I want to take you in and together be the motions of an earthquake; eruptions the likes of Vesuvius! I want to walk side by side with you, the way lions play in golden meadows, dandelions kissing their necks – soft like the touch of silks born of the beautiful-est butterfly’s transformation.

I want to cross my heart with yours, the way vines climb trees to reach the sun they so direly need, if you should fall then take me. I want to wash away your pains the way waves erase and make the face of the shores, and absorb you the way nature takes in a thunderstorm – bursting out all the life of a planet.

I want to be present in your minds eye till I die and am reborn of pure calms, that make the body shake! I want to explore your mind the way a trickling river carves its way through sedimentary rock – unearthing treasures hidden for millennia.

Discovering the world from foot prints along the beach, to grains of sand stuck to your skin, the wind whispers in your hair, to the breeze that kisses your cheeks, lift you up with my soul, and give all my breath to carry you,

I want to embrace you the way the grass collapses in as you lay;
I want to remove your clothes the way time and the elements wear the mountain sides, and touch you the way light shimmers across your lips, as shadows play games with desire – like fire eats the forest; I want you.

To be at your side the way the sun braces the horizon; to take you the way the moon pulls the ocean’s heart strings, the reason for its crests and troughs. I want to bring us to peak, and then come down again in the infinite perfection that is the Fibonacci spiral becoming the golden ratio.

I want to dance about hands clasped the way the universe shows us the dialectic, with your aspect and mine intertwined in the Hieros Gamos; we will cease to exist, only to rise from the sparks of imperceptible embers upon our beings where we will union in exacerbating infinity, sounding perfection at inaudible frequencies that can only be grokked – to touch of anything else, I dare us.

I imagine that would be something unforgettable across ages;
I wonder if I could imagine anything as wonderful as you.