Oath of Life

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

i'm unsure of the meaning, but i got the message!

 

Oath of Life

 

By Alexander Guinevere Kern

 

1-12-2021

 

 

The Skin Oath, that’s what’s required;

Put raw blood into it. Two shares

of Tournedes a la Bearnaise. Please.

A lasting Brand, You must have a brand,

Or be branded. Poke DNA with fervor -

Weave a spiral excitement.

A thread of steam escapes.

An Angel’s share: essence of Teardrop

Glass Lights flick my lids, eye rain.

Desert honey, roses, a chateau

Spanish style hacienda. Travertine Floors.

Unction Punctilio, I desire mercy

Not money! Not the Sacrifice

Of my Sacred Skin!

When windows break, the shards shriek,

Every hand-made Persian carpet

Wails of 3,000 silkworm murders.

Stop stepping so boldly on their deaths.

We tape up cute cartoons. Hunters send

Bullet demons to decorate their walls.

Door racks, Moose heads, See?

Nothing is ever said aloud. So

Serious is my Script. Your long hair

White as silk from ivory cocoons.

Lie down, I won’t step on you. 

No rug art are you, though costly

When gold prices are at their Zenith.

You worship coding? What’s the Code?

The quick unzip of Programmed trousers?

I’ve pondered the barbecue gasoline

Odor of dark Space on many a Night

Sail. My tears relate. Facial burn

When you don’t shave, Funny man.

Your love’s encoded in warp and weft.

Share The Green Fairy with me.

Astringent heir to Hallucinatory Estate

We share.

I’ll wager my Epiphany

Against your Epithymy.

Let’s float among the Carnival,

Fling knives at Oaths and Dead Carpets

See? I am still present. You missed

And missed. Undone Notables, take note -

Darkness hides your silence. I can smell you

Baking in the charcoal reeking Space

Where your Mind resides.

Meteors rise and toast me!

Asteroids give me the High Five Fly By!

Star lights warp and weft with glint mosaics,

I nearly wept with laughter. You didn't.

You are some Stone Artifice

Like Epeus built. Your Brand, Bad Boy.

Stones do not bleed but the blood

Of Abraham. Where is the Shuttle,

The Strings, the Formidable Threads,

The Vibrant song of my Life -

Blood walking my own History,

Symphony or tapestry?

Son, don’t walk on me.

For my every cell remembers

You slaughtered me, my blood

Stalled on the altar. What activated Life

In me I found in a Deep Mind

Floating above the gold Cherubs.

I said, “Have mercy on me, a 

Sinner.” He gifted me a part of

The Ark, my heart started beating . . .

 

And I swore an Oath

To keep my blood walking . . . 


Submitted: January 13, 2021

© Copyright 2021 RexMundi555'.-. All rights reserved.

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