St John's Lutheran Church
Van Manakas, guitar
Performances Curated by Sylvie Degiez
We ran laughing up the trail Path to the Top, flat stone at the summit warmed by the Sun, as he lowered his Body into the Distant horizon, spreading Fire across the zenith: shades of brilliant orange shot with gold and yolk yellow rimmed with crimson bleeding into bittersweet, madder, vermilion, dying at last into the wine dark pool, lifeblood of another day spilling over the earth and the Stone emanated the warmth of the day, stretched out on the surface, Mother’s bones piercing the skin at this sacred place, a crag above the folded California hills; we lay down skin to skin on that stone, receiving my Love on the edge of a billion stars, made love in the blinding night So Close to heaven, Long Drawn Passion cleaving the sky with the voice of Release
How are you supposed to feel, reading the writings of your much younger lover giving Glorious head to some pleading, thrashing woman who isn’t you? How can it not matter, even though you didn’t know him then, the savage and overwhelming and lusty goddam writhings of sleek bodied lovers, no thoughts of the future, the fate of the world or the universe, just the imminent Coming and Coming Again and Fantasies of Heaven and Cries in the Night
Milky smooth skin, uncontrollable passion and Be Damned to the Revolution, Be Goddamned to turn away and live only in this Orgasmic Moment! is it only because she wasn’t Me, and my lover, the Love of my Life, didn’t know me yet, didn’t know i was Searching for the Love and Revolution, didn’t know that the face seen in his youthful dreams was not the one he was feasting on, that she was the False Dmitri not the Missing Anastasia and he had to keep looking, but this moment, distracted between the thighs of False Dmitri, the one who was only maneuvering to get him inside her, to savor his jsm like honey almond wine, drunk on the extrusions of the best of his inner essence, his Most World-Shattering Soul; she was drinking his rebellion, a drug for her constant high, feeding what could never be satisfied and he, thinking he could
at least for awhile
The years, the decades, hide n seek: constant quest for the means to make the World’s aura an Act, an Understanding of Love, to have humankind Grok with the animals, birds, water-beings, and above all Each Other; the deep dive into the Well of her madness giving succor to her spirit while draining his own, for she gave nothing in return but delusion; she had never lived with poverty and desperation, so couldn’t understand what she was Stealing: the few, the thin, the hard won Cosmic Gold, a comprehension finally reached as he moved through the heavy, almost impermeable, barriers of stories told to unformed minds and hearts to win allegiance before an age where critical discernment is possible and she, Unknowing, her Denial of anything Outside her own needs, Outside the realm of her desires; they Must Be Fed with the exudations of revolutionaries and poets, the ones who can See Into and use their Art to attempt to help others also see
But maybe it’s only anti-revolutionary Jealousy, the Green-Eyed Monster, believing that it would have been Different if he’d Kept Searching and Found his True Complement in the young energetic times
or is the Revolution Still Possible, though our congress is fraught with exhaustion and sometimes despair, the Lovemaking still Vital and Cosmically Delicious but Sparks thinner with Age, the Godhead still reached but each time could be the Last, as Godhead decides to Keep one of us
and Then What?
We Desire to Change the Expectations of Dreamers, the Waking Times Filled with Electricity and Light, the Knowledge that Liberty and Community are the price and the product of that Ecstatic Communion
Who Was She? I wonder and what did she take away from the impassioned exchanges? a moment of Nothing? a much-desired escape from the voices, the fists that had battered her childhood? she also was injured and was the Power of his words, of his Poems, to Heal & Enlighten? or only to Fill the black hole of one person’s Emptiness? a rage and an outburst that rattles around in the depths of her Lack, no fervent Fever of Justice Won
The words of Old Hatreds still Ring in the World, the Closeness to Godhead only One at a Time when we need it to be All One All at the Same Time, a Smack over the Head with the God(dess)-Stick, reminder from Sensei: the Form is not correct, does not Further, a Massive missile missal missive changing Everything... Change is The Word! All that’s gone before; we were a race primarily of Carnivores, Changed to consumers of Plant life, Planet Life
and Beyond
My lover and i climbed to the Top, closer to God they say, bringing our Love to the Roof of the World, Explosions This Time channeling Orgasm to Pierce the Crown of Creation, to Link the World we know to Pasts thought Lost forever. Not So! just unRecognized at the verge of Consciousness; Cave Paintings on our Innermost memories, the Stuff of Humankind’s First Generation, the Golden Stardust, the fabled Garden, seeded with the Future
© 2021 pamela twining
