The pressure of his hand Anxiously uncertain The sinewy sensuousness Of quadriceps rising To kneel in Supplication or adoration Ambiguously unknown The warm toxicity Of breath Eyes searching The boundaries Of the face, For some tenuous flare Of recognition Time eclipsed In the masked ball of reversed reality Where nakedness is Revealed but not The intimacy of Our name Moments, Fragments Of time...
I am his Namesake, an Unknown uncle This other David He had Long gone By the time I arrived His life Compacted To a phrase Died of war wounds And I Wonder Who he was This man Committed To oblivion No grainy Black and white To give his Features visage His presence, Forgotten But for Four words Died of war wounds I wonder What were his wounds What was his war Did he have time To love His spectral...
They come at me With incessant insistence Demanding, not just A hearing, but Some response A word begets Words, then A sentence, and A sentence, not having The decency to know It’s limits Becomes a paragraph Spoken at me, Rolling over me Requiring some Answer, a word becoming A sentence, drowning In a paragraph Words clashing With words Consonants and Vowels jarring At volume While I Starve for...
Tracks of steel
Schedules to keep
While we lie
With sensuous delight
Across the surface
Slowed to a
As your presence
Pressed against me
This Dancing Life – For Matthew It is the devil’s Dancing season When Persephone Rises, spitting Pomegranate pips And Demons Track the Path of pips Leeching into This time Succubus’s stalk Scratching, sucking At scabs of memories Grown starving In the shadows Persephone, you Did not bring the spring You never do Each year, A resolution To endure. And so, we dance The devil and I We dance...
He leant across And kissed me It was a Narrow space Yet so far He said I’m sorry. I wished He hadn’t, Hadn’t said I’m sorry I was glad For the kiss It took me back He was in pain Mine, he didn’t see Mine wasn’t His to see I’d buried mine Behind the veils Within my heart Yet with That kiss, he Tore the veil Reminding me Of other days Infused and tinged With wisps of hope He said I’m sorry I knew...
This season With nonchalant Disregard for Summer’s pleasure Stalks once more Across the Floor boards Of my soul New year’s passing Barely cold The old returns With strident Insistence, suffocating Intention and Slicing scars With precision Once more In summer’s heat I wait the Thawing of Hoary fingered Icicles clutching Ventricles of A wounded heart I shut My eyes In case the River Styx Should...
Obedience was not Enough for you. In an Orwellian fantasy You demanded Suffering too. Suffering to Bend my will As on bended Knees, I wait In silence As if the trinity Of obedience Suffering and silence Would a saintly Submissive, make me Sunday’s of singing Sermons of damnation Sex today traded For future Salvation Instead, I’ll Take the sex I may not be Submissive, or Saintly But I prefer The...
I kneel I wait Forgive me Father I speak Master You called My name I wait To serve I wait Your blessing The hardness Of ecstasy To release La petite mort Of oblivion Union enjoined With you Complete I seek salvation Father, Master I wait Your release I wait, Waiting In silent Empty Stillness Forgiveness Denied, Service ignored Speech unheard Ecstasy frustrated Was it me? Was it you? Silence...