Linger where happiness lies

Heaven

sits by the side of a pool in the mountain

covered in Sun and sleeping the mind in facts of the body

lit

as passion or want sinks in the skins of those resurrected

out of sleep fruitless, soaked in rich vision

of waking to blessing

thought not to touch

now felt

surfaced

over

(self)

doubt

and the depths in which it drowns.

Down to the darkness we go

to surface again resurrected

as desire may rise and with it

ascension

choosing to linger where happiness lies.

Heart

Pass through, as ease to some it seems

and loss-release of lives lived hardly

in search instead of softness.


Forth from softness only love may spring

grounding tender darling dreams

where scars guard wounds from rupturing themselves


gushing inward, streams of being

stitching marks unhurt

and born of boundlessness and trust.

My body

You touch my body

in court

my body

becomes no longer

my body

becomes the object on which

your wishes are drawn.

You touch my body

in court

my body

because a free

un-

birthing body

shakes your house

master

your house

we dismantle

with tools which are not your own.

You force my body

in court

my body

to fill the one place you see

for my body


but then, guess what

so many bodies

rumble the streets to get

my body

and swallow you

deep

utter(us), many

enraged, so many

which you and your load shall abort.

Divinity

Pleasure I understood as theory

where now sensuous enjoyment lives.

Vital,

my body demands the one that shall drink it,

the one with whom energies bind in ecstasy known to consensual givers unhindered,

flowing in and through one another, as one delivered

to places only gods may recognise

and mortals who choose to break with earthly binds, fused

with the gods,

moulded into that which brings woman to understand her divinity

and man his rightful place beside her.


For she shakes the structures that must be shook

if we us humans are to move further.

This is what must be done,

what we are being asked to do –

to discover divinity within or perish

as the lowlives we aspire to be,

inferior to all that we thought ourselves superior to,

lost in the destruction of our own making

which shall regenerate, only without us.

Summer of Love

Wild flowers out finding

space in cracked concrete,

taken by running

hot then wet torrents

through people so tender

sunned back to life from

winter caked in the heart.

Summer of love

with strangers’ smiles beaming

back

heart’s open feeling

love and desire

out

spilling and healing.


Seeds of wild flowers

the nights dancing sowing

coming to life in intensities filling

breathing life-love

in blood winter still holding

breath in two chests

by wild winds caressing

moving it warm

to hearts that crave pulsing

the flowering hearts of two wild ones so found.