poem 146 of a poem a day for 2012

telling time in the deep ember clocks of the Goddess on Beltane

can capture the instances

of each peeled surrender

in each stanza

I write on her soft belly skin

on the foamy side of clouds in a slate coal sky

intermittent rain, hits the page

inks the stain of my constant insanity

in each stanza

for instance

in this stanza

I jump the fire quick, no candle stick trick

five foot flames Beltane need not explain with a word

what I have come here in a mask for

I undress the best parts of my soul

get my horns out

sharpen them

thrash in the warm mud of arrival

fish-fining prayers in rhythmic chants

over and over

near the fire's home

near the lyre's poem

in this stanza

an hour goes by

staring at the string of time

from crackle spit and pop

dance, don't stop

hands out, crawling the chant again

move the Heavens for me Goddess

let me drink of You

and seed the view here

this is how you cup the old to new again

this is how every cell of mine gets charged

for that taste of a blind begin

that sweet sated surrender

that joy of joined sin

this is how to radiate from within

this is how to know nothing

but wanting more of this

because in another instance

the stanza is all about

how I live to find what You like to be given

how I like to find the hidden spots

painting the dark

between an ease

and the slight squeeze

of way inside Your

warm and waiting

climb to elating Your

dug toes to craned back neck open wide

animal sounds crown the gutters with smiles

hands in frenzy fed grabbing

devouring the guide-wires of stardust leaning

in the smudged ash of our primal decay

because in an instant 

this stanza is all about

how I watch You burn 

every edge of my fine

when I dive right in

and let go as You...

push off my thighs

my hands are like harps

searching for angels

in a starless sky

finding the bend

and drive wheel of your ass

You bell each frequency of mine

push off again

slide back

slow down

squeeze up

push off again

the bow ties are for the candles

the salt tithes are for my lips and tongue

and every language I can sing

that I am undone by Your bliss

and I no longer miss not fitting into this world

when wrapped like this

on nights where a kiss

is an instance 

is another stanza

that seems to want to go

back to pushing

off again

squeezing

easing the wet onto

the velvet manes

because once again

She says

in every instance

the Goddess is there

inside the God of you

even in this stanza too

in the night of chase and twine

in the tea, in the trees

in the fire, in the rain

in the wind and in the flesh of a poem

in the warm loam feel of every finger I reach for Her with

in gently traced paths of Her salt to palace chamber walls

in held open mouthing the rain kinds of moments

tongue-mining Her personal calculus again

I just follow the strewn maps of Her moans

the insistence of Her hands

as she arches to smell the wind

She carves Her name in the milky haze

in the suckle sprays of a timelessness

that arrests everyone of my senses

so that I may desire

one more second

one more time

one more rhyme

one more time 

please baby please

this is why

I surrender

to You

every line

every cry

every call

to crawl

in Your tides

just to hear

You burn

my name

home

to here

again

EJR ©