I have been with you
Through the snow,
Through the great depression,
Through the isolation
Of the soul.
You have been reborn,
And I with you.
We are consumating our love,
Once again…
The sun against my flesh,
Mounting your peaks,
Digging my fingers into your soil.
We are of the same spirit
You and I.
Spring has sprung.
There is a tree growing inside me,
Cherry blossoms blooming.
You planted your seeds in me.
I am growing.
I don’t know why
You erase me from your grasp,
Only to slice off your own misguided hands
And regret your negligence to touch me
Ever.
Lust, you visit me at 4:00am…
Begging for forgiveness,
Demanding attention .
Why do you say goodbye,
Only to exceed the speed limit
On highways to nowhere?
Saudade is your soundtrack
As you drive past the billboards
Of what could have been.
Idiot.
So I have four Italians at my doorstep,
By no fault of their own.
They are cold, tired and hungry.
There were supposed to be two,
And I wasn’t supposed to be welcoming them,
For I am only a tennant,
In these faulty towers.
But there is happiness to this madness,
Tonight I shall indulge
All the pleasures…
Blatantly, and without inhibition.
Because no one can touch me,
Now that I have done another man’s job.
No one will dare knock on my door
Asking me to cease and desist,
When they cannot succeed at independence
In managing the affairs
of the self-orchestrated hurricane they call a life.
-Calling in favours
Some people grow
Like evergreen trees
A hybrid of eagle and wolf
Soaring
Carrying others to safety
Free from an oppressive past.
Technology, evolution, science,
An alliance
Of progression.
Others choose to remain trapped
In the past,
Bitter from the rigours
of climate change.
An apocalypse,
Fear of karma
Crippling guilt…
And decay.
The irony is that in seeking to protect themselves
from the ills of the past,
Those who stunt their own growth
Do to others,
What they fear will be done to them.
Jumping the gun.
Proactive.
Slaughter.
The circle.
I want to know your places.
Where you drink coffee,
And run your fingers
Like a marathon,
Missing me, missing you.
I know one place you go to
My mind.
Café Nostalgia
This poem was inspired by the one and only @Uncorps on instagram. His abstract close-ups and full bodied self portraits (both censored and uncensored) display the best of the male anatomy whilst expressing the most earnest and passionate of emotions. Most notable however, is that his face is never revealed in his work.
His manner and mystery evoke the most intense pangs of lust driven by curiosity towards the enigmatic and the unseen. Whether it’s faith in eternity, electricity pulsating through the body or the howling winds of nature, we are all driven and moved by a force which cannot be entirely recognised. For this reason, my words could not be contained.
The citation to Frida Khalo is a nod to the works published in her once secret diary, which have undoubtedly influenced the overall literary flow and style of this piece. I wanted to keep the emotion as raw as possible, which means the lines do not follow a set or predictable structure, and the words – compulsive and uncontrollable – ryhme at random.
On short, these words convey the anticipation and adrenaline that accompanies everything we desperately want, yet cannot see in entirety.
I want to swim in your veins
As the tides rise.
He is faceless,
Yet I can feel his hands.
My hair stands at attention,
He is inside me
All over me.
“He is me.
I am him.” – Frida Khalo
Keep me on the edge of darkness,
I don’t want to be illuminated by your eyes.
I want to watch the rainbow of you,
Dancing across the sky in flamingo motion.
Movement. Dance. Emotion.
An eruption of Cumulonimbus clouds
Oozing from the sky.
I observe you.
I want you.
I cannot see you.
But I can feel you.
The electricity.
Desire.
Fire.
Magnetism.
A tree sprouting from the earth.
Hands guiding me to dance
Upon the fields beneath the heavens.
Spring is here,
Guiding me to feel the petals
Caressing my fingers
Kissing my face.
Nature.
Rush hour.
A journey through time
And space.
All the dimensions,
I want to feel you.
More than I want to see you.
You’re giving me life,
Yet depriving me of sight.
Adrenalin.
You are life’s greatest mystery.
The unanswered questions
Lay in the abyss of your face.
One can hold out in faith
In the hopes that they
Will be welcomed into heaven when they die.
In you,
I find the hope of everlasting life.
Over, and over again
As I summon the angels
To fuck me in the dark.
You are the angel…
A faceless angel.
You are energy.
Life force.
Gravity.
Unseen concepts.
You are love.
You are life.
Feelings do not have a face,
Neither do orgasms.
You are the footsteps approaching,
From down the hall.
Anticipation.
The ocean churning
In the depths
Of my orchid blossom.
Rising in ecstasy,
Collapsing in spent
Serenity.
Rocks breaking my fall.
Spasms.
Vibrations abound.
Your frequency rises
When the sun goes down.
Your colours glide like rainbows.
Butterflies.
The universe.
Touch me.
Guide my face to the night.
I want to feel you.
You are hope in infancy,
An embryo in the womb.
I swim in murky depths
To find peace with you there.
Before life matures us.
Your moods are as ambiguous
As the darkness which conceals
Your face.
Your blood is my blood,
Coursing through my veins.
Crimson tides on a canvas.
If your rivers,
Ever run dry,
I
Will most surely die.
You are
My eyes wide shut,
Shielded in leather
Begging
For your fingers around my throat
Fire blazing down my neck
Kissing my back.
Perspiration.
Elation.
Over, and over again.
I am you.
You are me.
He represents,
The very length of this poem.
And the words,
My words,
They keep flowing out of my mouth,
In rapturous abandon.
Surrendering to oxygen.
Breaking against river banks.
Quivering with pleasure.
I cannot stop,
Like a waterfall descending,
Climaxing against the earth’s firm flesh.
Pink,
Blue,
Yellow,
You are fire.
So warm, yet so dangerous.
A silhouette against the open window,
Making love to the sunrise,
Ecstasy.
A powerful entity…
Energy.
I am you,
You are me.
