Another Other

Some stranger 'cross 

The coal-black

Sea, another you for 

Another me, two souls discrete

Who'll never meet, the 

Simple flesh of whom shall never

Greet, nor trade fraternal 

Kisses sweet of 

Love Platonic, or else some  

Other form of union 

Blessèd by 

Those Above.

Let's dream the dance divine, 

Decreed and meet for

Mythic fields Illysian, fresh,

Fecund and flowered.

Hold hard in hands

What spirit, pure, reveals 

To the meat of minds all done 

With shields now seen

As fey and frail, naught but

Fairie glamours, golden gleaming.

And as a last galvanic grasp 

Grab Love's ghost, 

Which now Fortunata

Has

Unsealed….

Again We Wake…

Again we wake in 

Blessèd night, 

Your pillowed thighs awaiting wide

To clasp my soul, to 

Squeeze so tight that,

By pure reflex, lust relights 

And I respond 

From 'cross our secret 

Hellespont. 

Your moan I suck

From skies afire, 

Your wet seduction 

But feeds desire and 

Quenches not our 

Lover's pyre. Seduction

'Guised as invitation, 

Invitation to invade, while 

You your astral flame do flaunt.

Your blazing female glare, it

Tempers taut and oils anew

My lover's lance or, perchance, 

A poignard hard for  

You, the sheath, 

So measured as to twin our

Pleasures, bright and keen as

From between the two extremes 

Of pain and carnal ecstasy,

We crave in chorus,

Thrash in time and, as if

Planned, let fly a holy joy

In one transcendent cry.

 

So, once more a

Melding fresh as if our first.

My love, my one desire, you still

Inspire a lust for which all Love

Does thirst: a lust required 'fore

You bleed sacred, tender nectar:

Fulsome lips, slick, a-drip

Upon mine waiting 'neath to drink 

And pay-in-kind full measure. 

For Love is ever in the balance:

Beat for beat, a heat for

Heat, our hearts we barter whole

In trade. Love's elixir you do

Spill all salty-sweet but though 

From you received, as with all 

Else, it shall be shared, for

That's how lovers say

Their prayers. 

Love is…

Love is that which 

Hate is not,

Close and 

Ever pleasing. 

To know the one is to

Know the other not, 

For it's far beyond 

Your needing. 

Inspired by “Full Circle” (L. McKennitt)

Take hold of woe; now,

Clasp it close, and

Let it go. For

Each themselves must

Do to know.

Category: Conceptual Art

Interactive sculpture: 

Upon a square painters' drop cloth (2m x 2m?), set up an easel but, instead of a canvas, put up an unframed rectangle of mirrored glass. No palette, brushes, or any other artists' tools considered appropriate to be with an easel. Consider it a sculptural version of John Cage's piano piece which was a measured period of silence, which brought to the fore all ambient sounds. Here, the intent is to make the viewer aware that they themselves are the medium upon which they make their art. Life synonymous with art and visa versa.