Friday, August 15, 2008

Inner Sea Canto V

And so and so and so and so
the surf does surge up upon us though
you sleep just beyond its fingers reach
half awake as I comb with mine,
the precious locks that twirl and curl.

This here this place we have washed upon,
this distant Eden flee'd from our Babylon
when once we gazed into an east unfed,
now we look back on a west that is dead,
or dying of its misshapen woes,
reduced to pimping it's children as hoes.

Not even whores any mores,
the r's swallowed like all the pride,
and left with only images inside.
How a privileged people have brough them selves low,
and slip head side to side in half awakened glow.

You now, are that moment where sleep and wakening collide,
the clatter and do battle on your eyelids.
And so I kiss sleep on the right,
and waking on the left,
pondering which shall take this prize.
Will I see the sleeping moon of your soft face?
Or the brightness of your brilliant eyes?

Or will they flutter as they do in this moment gleaming,
when nothing is, and all is seeming.
Before we have roused our selves to find the needs of flesh,
and spirit still tosses us up like foam.
The nerieds of the water unrepressed,
by the weight of this flesh that we bear.

The are the pure spirits of sea, in me,
as you are touched by the lords of the air.
I know this when I watch your mind,
and poetry in its work enthralling,
as each twist and turn you manipulate just so,
to an end unseen, but one you know.

Through your mind, a gale of genius does blow.
Light lithe as my foot prints on this sand
barely etch a trace of passing,
and yet with movement all surpassing,
seem to magically transport from here to there.

I am the sea.
You are the air.

Now I come back bearing fruit,
you stare upwards and then finally,
I curl over you, lost from your exertions,
to save that poor wreckage that was our boat,
as storm ripped through it's tender masts,
and slashed its soft sails.
Finally to smash its sleek hull,
into scraps and shards and splinters.

I strain water into your mouth,
you swallow, and with parched lips
whisper a thanks that is holy thanks,
for this the gift of water that is life,
next to an ocean that was nearly death.

You breath my name, even though the sounds
and syllables, are yet indistinct.
Your gaze meets mine,
and the sugar courses like a drug through you.
You long to drink another nectar.

Come with me, come with me,
come and voyage on my inner sea.

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