The Poetry Bar

Verge of Human

gaping transfixed
through the billow mists of sex
I caught fleeting
divine figures miming symbols
in the afterstupor
one not quite dawn

aren’t lies shards of truth
we’re missing an organ to look at
isn’t it the case
that intimacy’s impulse is sacred
regardless the coloring
of wind gusts
or breezes
whitenoising about
in the expressing
be it delicate missive or animal grope

once we’ve detected the lying
already we swim towards redemption
in the currents
of natural necessity
already we’re building an organ
to perceive what others have missed
and who dares legislate
what velocity we uncurl at

once we dive off that bridge
flying with a hope
in our bungee’s integrity
have we not already cited love
as the deepest motive
no matter how purple
or crimson our passions
or haphazard our stallion’s gallop

let the echo of sinful
dissolve in the starglow
mirrored in eyes peering nightward
if the flesh overpowers
if the passions descend
still know how the soul was the engine
and souls disabuse all delusion
given time transformed into lovespace

inside these bodies
whether Olympian
whether worldbeaten
quivers what’s human
with a glowing too sunlike
to directly encounter
we must needs piecewise
dose one another our wisdoms
know: inside the wanting
is a wishing never impure
enwombed in the lust is a kindness

note Lucifer’s nod of the head
inclining us forceful
to the exclusively carnal
and blinding with the glare
of disconnected enjoyment
then tip hats his way
saluting the crafty
blasting warmth out your bosom
unveiling love as the core

each time you step off the precipice
you widen our earth’s horizons
and something only like love
is won to love’s province
each time you stab a sword
towards the truthful
I’m gashed hot or cold
with a lance of salvation
I’m bathed in the liquid
of receptacled becoming
each time I dimly sense
the scope of what you give
I hush
in the inadequacy
of fledgling gratitude

I began wishing to write some essays in a think-piece prose style about five years ago. Strangely enough, in the process of clarifying my thoughts, more and more, poetry resulted.
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