For rusty1776 in gratitude for his “Writing in the Raw: Valentine Confessions”
I remember when you brought me hyacinths
We walked the path under pepper trees
Laughed our way to the beach
To play in the surf like yearling seals
And when you kissed me, your salt wet curls
Dripped ocean on my face
I was a virgin then, and you a married man
In a country with strange taboosI remember when you came again
We were older then, and you had tasted
The bite of war on your golden flesh
You brought me only your body then
And took me, coldly unwilling
On the stone cold floor
Eyes wild, body strawberry ripe
Your virgin rape bride
In a country with strange taboosWhen you took me over my protests
I heard the voice inside me say
Yes to the Universe
Yes to God
Yes to you
Yes in concentric circles swirling out
Thought forms in an expanding universe
Orgasm of matter in an ocean of spaceMeeting each other face to face
forgetting your wife
Waves from a meteor plunged in the sea
at her desk a mile away
Rippling into the universe like a psalmI remember when you brought me your wound
Placing it in the palm of my hand
The night you, dreaming of the war
Took the remington you kept by the bed
And shot your reflection in the mirror
Thinking it a jap
Killing on instinct
In a country with strange taboosI remember when you said you could not love me
Although you loved me
We played like Hindu deities
Entwined like spiral galaxies
You brought me so many images then
Mother and Priestess
Virgin and Whore
I had ruined your life you said
Because I wasn’t a virgin when we met, you said
In this country with strange taboosAnd I remember when you brought me spider mums
Naming me Circe
She of the beautiful hair
Naming me an illusion and your fear
Saying we had to live celibately
That only in god was there ecstacyYou the torero, killer of bulls
You the marine, killer of men
You the man, killer of me
The killer in Circe’s lair
In this country with stange taboosYou brought your wound and your war and your fear
Home to me here in our bed
Taught me the thorn in the flesh wound of sexGradually I learned to live
According to these strange taboos
I learned to go on living and
Sometimes only fucked and judged and fucked and judged
But wanted always only to love
Even with galactic distances between our souls
In recreational sex till the messiah comesI sought love on the beach and love in the bar
I sought love in the eyes of a stranger
Who looked for all the world like a friend
To help the wound to mend
The gap in the heart of the soul
Till the wound heals and we are wholeMeanwhile
I write confessional poetry
shadows of
what should I blame
a catholic girlhood
a father’s vice
Some strain across a fault zone in the planet’s heart
Some original sin in my soulMeanwhile
I write recreational poetry
Kill the messiah every time he comes
from what
from fear, from habit
ego, lack of trust
Some geo-centric allergy to dust
While in my heart I know we must
Love one another body heart and mind and soulTill the wounds heal and we are whole
And kill these strange tabboos.
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real deal.
Orgasm of matter in an ocean of space
Taught me the thorn in the flesh wound of sex
Some strain across a fault zone in the planet’s heart
Some original sin in my soul
and i’m still reeling. it makes me want to write and write and write and then tear my hair out; it isn’t anywhere near this good.
wow.
maintained unless I breathe once in awhile, but poetry as off-the-charts good as this makes me forget to breathe.
I keep reading your poem over and over again, dharmasyd, who needs oxygen when poetry like this can be experienced?
If everyone would touch the hearts and minds and souls of other human beings with the same heartfelt openness and honesty as you have in this poem, this world would be a much better place.
Thank you for giving us this poem, dharmasyd, I don’t think anyone who reads it will ever forget it.
gods & ancestors how you write…
jewel-like phrasing dncing down the platinum chain of your love…
wow.
You can’t go around just, just… making sense… They’ll come after you with all the taboos they’ve got and try to tie you up.
Thank you, that was great. Wow I came to the net for politics and somehow ended up getting the best there is in art. No strange taboo’s here. Real deal indeed. Beautiful and powerful.
i’m thinking that if this does not hit the rec list, i would like to use it in writing in the raw tomorrow night…
it is far too good not to be out there so people get a chance to read it.
would that be okay with you?
Wow! So passionate. ♥
I echo all the above. Wonderful poetry! We are blessed to have so much talent on Docudharma.
I feel absolutely swept away.
Every emotion I can think of felt, while reading this extraordinary piece of poetry of love, dreams, taboos, wounds, sadness and aloneness in search.
Beautiful!
Holy Mother of Mothers, this poem is beyond gorgeous…
Kill the messiah every time he comes…
Till the wounds heal and we are whole
And kill these strange tabboos.
how did i miss this? Syd!
plus, you’re not going to believe this but i’ve used this line: “in the eyes of the stranger, in the eyes of the friend”
i love this. this is so much more than a poem. this could be a sacred gospel. something found in the desert along with the Nag Hammadi.