At once, returning...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Phoenix Poetry

Submitted: June 15, 2017

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Submitted: June 15, 2017

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Littering the perfumes of her ethanol dress upon memories

Niobe’s sulpher scarred the green grins of the fleshy aquarium —

The concrete elongations melted upon my genuflecting knees, 

Dancing as smoke in the crowds thoughts, sorrow’s anchors in the cranium 

Weighed the gold vessels, all sphere’s lenses, upon our scales of gravity; 

Dusk grew obese, clouds sloughed, and I thought of Evil’s actuality. 

Bottoms rough mane, hardening by the Moon’s loss, shrunk into shades of pale 

Baldachins, glossed in stubbles of dust and sweat, thawed behind tapestries

And the dream like state which the soul harbours turned familiar and stale; 

The Chandelier’s hearth loosened as children swung on green-vined arteries,

Dangling from it’s nerves, knowing of a pain because it doesn’t exist — 

As Darkness welcomed her infant heart, I evaporated to mist 

And a Sea of Spirit’s littered the shore of all mankind’s memories, 

Convulsing and weaving skulls to the wooden Sky, twitching under knees…

 

Pregnant, I bathed horns in the dances of marching waves, 

The migrating halos of white streams (grapes flowed with gold)

And Zephyrs lit by the blood of dusk whispered to slaves:

‘Absurdity’ — they honed hooks and burrowed trunks to mould; 

Bristles arching over my purple eye, tipped in blood, 

Squeezed and lactated rusty limbs from the Zeneith’s pen; 

Euphoric sloth of anticipation in childhood 

Embraced nothing but the vulgar death of raging men!…

 

I was lead by the June night

And in her Ruby eyes flowed 

Oceans of Indium light; 

The tan-pruned gardener mowed

And Osiris came in sight, 

All her futures had been sowed… 

 

Sweeping past the weeds and corpses perfume 

The June night in her vigil set, howled and groaned

As if the day had passed; her blood and white loom 

Poured from the sphere vignette in the fountains mind

Where I was brought to my knees, only to find 

My reflection, still, light, buried in her womb; 

My fleshy masts, sailing unto blackness, moaned 

As the godess decayed in the Sphinx’s tomb. 

 

Her heart peeled upon the horizon, 

I lay drifting on veins of blackness; 

I sunk my nose and mouth in the one

And birthed silence unto silent’s madness!…

 

(I am returning, I am forever returning, 

 I am no longer the two loves of June…

 


© Copyright 2017 Manx. All rights reserved.

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