Allefuckingory

Allefuckingory


I

A tale
Needs telling
The story
Must be told

Must be retold
Embellished repeatedly
And variously accessorized
With accoutrements of the Ages

Myth made real
Come alive
In careful cadence
Severed limbs and linguistics

II

Truth surfaces
Like old Nessie
Through dark waters
And the oozing mud of Time

From the shoulders
Of an overlooked past
You deliver a harsh message
Sword in hand

The same blood
The same fears
Fill our veins
Man and Monster

Beowulf and Grendel
Roles arbitrarily assigned
We forge or follow
Paths of so-called Honor

III

The gory miasma
Intrinsic to Life
And Death
Endlessly redefines Reality

Scrying for Glory
Through bloody entrails
There is no Salvation
There is only Destiny

Warriors
Of heart of spirit of soul
Commit to Valhalla
Without hesitation

While the parting words
Of every severed head
Call out in vain
To heedless Gods

Brutes and brute force
Heroes and their heroics
Legends of Battle and Song
Reprise the eternal Saga

God's Gift

1.

When God created Color, could He see
How all the Greens of Spring amassed amount to sheer hyperbole?
And surely He must realize how sunlight streams
On Summer days through lazy eyes into our dreams…
Or how I lose myself to skies of azure blue
Thinking of Him and, by extension, Him in you.
Hard to believe, the colors of the spectrum do add up to white;
And so we follow rainbows into God’s pure light.

2.

When God devised His plan for Taste and Smell,
Was His intention to entice us straight to Hell?
The sweet temptation of forbidden fruit aside,
The myriad flavors of His bounty will not be denied.
We waver in the heady scent and rich perfume
Of honeysuckle, butterscotch and roses in full bloom
And swept away by pungent pheromones that flood our senses,
We salivate, anticipate, abandon all defenses…

3.

When God imparted Touch, could He have known
Bereft of human contact, how we quickly die alone?
Or how, instead entwined, we transfer heat from skin to skin,
The fiery warmth without reflecting that within?
And does He watch as we explore the differences between
An icicle, a rough-barked tree and satin’s silky sheen?
We grasp, we stroke, we slide down rivulets of sweat to hidden creases;
We push, we prod, we search for God and find Him in a clench of swift releases.

4.

When God imagined Sex, was it a joke?
Had He meant something else and just misspoke?
Are Satan, God, the Kama Sutra or the birds and bees to blame
For all the calisthenics so enthusiastically performed in procreation’s name?
I only know the urgency that takes its toll
Is like a Siren song that calls to you to make me whole.
Survival of the species dictates that I take my place
With you, and you in me, we two in God’s embrace.

5.

When God embodied Love, was He insane?
He had to comprehend such joy was wed to pain…
The raw emotion which must be splayed out, exposed
To let in feelings leaves us unprotected, indisposed
To take a chance, yet if we choose to hide from dangers,
The comfort of such safety keeps us ever strangers.
Only a Leap of Faith frees us to find another;
Only in Love can we see God and satisfy each other.

6.

When God invented Song, was it a whim?
Or did He know our voices would be raised to honor Him?
And how the hum of bees, the mockingbird, the thunder’s roll
Are melodies which elevate and fill the soul?
You sing and every silken honeyed note floats to my ear,
Pulls me along, lifts up my heart and lets me hear
The Hallelujah chorus raised to celebrate my capture,
Sweeping me homeward in an unexpected Rapture!

7.

What right have we to wave God’s gifts away?
None. How much better then to pray
By reveling in what He’s given us, with which we’re graced
And dedicate our lives to Passion, not to waste
A moment, opportunity, emotion, dream or kiss.
Whatever else my life may have in store, I do want this:
To know your touch, your presence, all you do;
For it is clear that you are here for me, and I for you.

8.

So when I look into your eyes, so blue, so green,
The color of an ocean yet unseen
And touch my tongue to beads of sweat that form like sea foam on your skin,
I can rejoice in knowing that I do not sin
And that the scent that lingers like a promise in your wake
Is but a signpost left for me to follow, for God’s sake;
And in the echoes of your whispered song, an intervention so divine,
I tremble to discover, at long last, your hand in mine.

I have to write...

ideas crashing into each other without regard to consequences/random thoughts and ideas tumbling out like happy puppies/poems spilling forth across a wild panorama... stay tuned...