my Beautiful little sister
materializes in the heavens
floating down to my part of the world
from so far away
my Lovely Celestial Dancer
whose Spirit fills my Heart
with Gladness
whose Crazy Humor bedezins bedecks
my Universe with WildWomyn
Laughter Song & Stories
whose Open Heart whose Secret Heart
tiptoes tentatively Bursts Blazingly
Always brings Love into the World
whose Birth was a Gift
Stay
Dammit!
for RK
return to light
eyes blinded after darkness
impenetrable
it’s just too much all at once
greedy pupils expand/contract
will the images fade like photographs
overexposed?
return to light
return to water after starvation/
thirst
troglodyte climbing
climbing from the bowels of the earth
the eyes have not gone useless
yet
electric blue gaze of heaven
paralyzing
teach me again
to behold the universe
1988
there is violence in the solitary crib
a dark ache of anomie
dissociation
bleeding is feeling
pain equals pleasure
the tyranny of words that shape the consciousness
from the first moment of its winking on
sliding in
opening up
round syllables resonating
bounding reverberating
roaring
inside the unformed mind
with what music, what songs do we fill
the alien unfoldings of a million billion infant futures
as they lie helpless in our arms
drinking in our emotions and prejudices
with the reverb of milk
their fernlike cheeks unfurling
against our breathing humming vibrating breasts
just noise to the unschooled ear
the definitions coming later
the syllables take on meaning
and the tones we’ve come to know as the rhythms of days
our actions based in primal memory
grow from feelings of love or abandonment
anger, meanness
comfort or blessing
associated with those ethereal sounds
a heritage of the pre-lingual
the music of our words
in the land of First Contact
by the maid, joan of arc
on the eve of her triumph
so long ago
held aloft by your mother
in the air wild
with bells
offered in joy
to her shining lips
were you branded forever
with the fire of holiness?
did your starved limbs fill out
with the promise of bliss?
touched by the soldier-maid
sent straight from heaven
surrounded by angels
and god, the electric
did your heart swell triumphant?
was your voice raised in song?
you, who were brushed
by the passage of destiny
kissed by wonder and joy
one bright night in your youth
held
for a moment
by the hope of a nation
did your soul grow inside you?
did it matter at all?
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 Very 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
