Saturday, September 6, 2014

New Gods

New Gods

an experiment for Jack*
The moving hand appears!
          and scratches its way across the skin,
          etching its words in the flesh.
          behold. behold. behold.
The source gives us the irrevocable counsel!
          and now what shall we do?
          we hold that word in our small hands –
          it is too large for us,
          it does not fit in our mouths,
          we cannot compass it.
But it does not decide! The right of choice is ours! That is the life equation!
          such bombast! such proclamation!
          what pride encircles and draws us
          new gods made in the image of
          hopeful longing and fear.
Make us the door for him to enter – prepare for the word. 

          and is this word now a door?
          we are birthed through language,
          it adorns us and wounds us and wraps
          us in its embrace. shhh. wait.

Let your circuits carry the word – let it grow loud – until it reaches the winds of infinity!

          i shall. if i can bear the weight
          of promises. and prophecies. and singing.
          if exultation doesn’t shatter
          my voice, or break my hands.

          if I can have just one more day

          where your hand speaks to me.

* Jack Kirby, ground-breaking comic book artist for both Marvel and DC comics

      * lines 1-3 are from DC Comics’ New Gods #1
      * lines 4-5 are from DC Comics’ Forever People #1


cavafy, they said

they said to read cavafy,
that classicist, nostalgic and horny.
or lonely. or something.

there’s a restlessness there,
echoing yours
    i think
it’s more a willful aimlessness,
a willingness to abandon
a train of thought, a history
filmed with dust, a longing
for something lost, something
with weight, shadowy gestures,
desire gained so rarely, and thinly.

ah, cavafy. you’re always on the edge
of saying something.
you meander amongst ruins,
burdened with longing, burdened.
tell me what you want.
is it really only beautiful bodies?
i am unconvinced. is it beauty?
are you being coy?
or merely guarded?

lovely wanderer, let’s stop playing games.
let me take your hand.
let us walk together. 

consider the lilies

consider the lilies.

consider that somehow they aren’t overwhelming.
consider that they don’t assault the senses,
that they aren’t garish – like old ladies
wearing too much make-up;
that they don’t season every breath
with their sickly sweet smell,
like flesh rotting.

consider painting them instead.
consider how that hides
our sense of the body.
makes it pleasant, even.