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Marco 3d
I stepped into the holy light -
your light -
but I couldn't see you
you shone too bright
Your silhouette was barely there
and I began to fear
that no part of you was even real
a mere figment of my imagination
But we tied together
bonded fiercely
like fire we burned the dark
until I succumbed to all you were
and you left me, nothing but a spark
Your robbed the light, you took it all
grasped my soul and heart
clutched my mind and made it yours
merged with me, the dark
And I gave all that I had to you
willingly
and you took without thinking twice
or uttering a word.
Marco 7d
my church is a lake
the great big rippling dark green its hall
and the tree on the other side
(the big one with the slit in its trunk,
for the sun (God) to shine through)
is its altar
and I can hear Him speak as
the wind that rustles the leaves

a thousand brilliant-green leaves
shaking in His gentle breath
the branches studded with angels
His children that dance as spots of sunlight
on the leaves, on the water, on my head
and Emilio in the freckles on my shoulders

the lake is my church
I float in the water and pray
to God with my arms wide open, I pray
for you
to drift into my embrace
so I will never let you go;
I will never let you go.
Marco Jun 22
"e"
my head
is spent
with you
is spent, is
spent.

all my energy drained
gone
used up
all my energy flow’n
to my heart
the center
of my love
my love
my love
you are

so worth it
so worth this exhaustion
this work, this
perfection, this
poetry, these
words, these
words.

i’ve got
a problem with
repetition
a problem
with repetition
a real problem
with repetition, so
will you grant me
peace of mind
and let me
love you again
again
again
and again
until i’m spent
and spent
and spent
and i will
love you
‘till my breathing stops.
Marco Jun 16
You and I, handcrafted in lust,
borne of sea and blood -
you, of Aphrodite,
and I, of Ares.
The violence of your love
destined to be matched only
by the tenderness of my violence.

And my hands, war-given, strong,
made for battle,
grow soft at your hips, and
softer yet at the cliff of your thighs,
as they crash softly in the bay in-between.
And how these hands long for you, my child of goddess,

long for you like the armor of my chest longs
for your sweet mouth,
longs for your gentle fingertips
in the calm before the storm.
The passion of your tenderness a momentary reprieve
before I go to war;

and when I go, oh, the power that overcomes me,
and the weapons I will bring,
and the blood I will draw.
In the fashion of my father, as he tied Aphrodite's hair
in his fist, and
as he broke down her barriers, claiming her city,
her temple,
her soul.

The lullaby of her moans
reminiscent in your voice,
my favorite sound and
my chosen battle cry.
Marco Jun 16
The land of milk and honey
is liquid again -
all rivers flowing, all
summer winds blowing, all
leaves green and fresh

if there is
a price for love, a price for your touch,
I'll gladly pay the Pharaoh,
I'll gladly be the crutch for
all his wise men and oracles,
all his wives and daughters and sons

I'll carry their burdens with joy,
every day, night for night,
spurned on by the promise of
your lips, your thighs,
your honeysuckle skin, your
rose colored hair, your
sun-kissed face, the spots dancing on your nose.

In the land of milk and honey
I found my worship in its rivers,
its seas of gold and pearl,
its lap that's filled with lilacs and rosehips,
and I will kiss you good morning until
the sun doesn't rise and
the stars don't shine and
the moon doesn't watch our prayers at night anymore.
Marco Jun 11
“I love you” in its kaleidoscope dress dances
like sunshine upon the waves -
does it remind you of something?
Does it remind you of me, my love,
as I sit here and write and break my heart over
entertaining a fantasy;

For you to say my name, just once - just once -
to hear your gentle breath exclaim this personal ecstasy of mine,
this declaration of victory that yes, I am myself!
Finally, instantly -
just one word from your lips - this word - and the fever of
battle inside me rages,
the body ready to swim all seas and win all wars,
to tear up all earth just
for you -
to find you, my lover, yes,
to return to a home of you.
I promise I will, and forever more I shall,
in exchange for the sound of
your rose water perfumed voice
caressing the essence of my Self.

I could
spin this song forever
let it wash endlessly
through the streets of the world, just to
declare my love for you,
just to shout your name into the night
or sing it as gracefully as I could
to infect every heart and ear with my feeling,
this emotion that overpowers me,
makes me crumble, fall to my feet,
lift my voice to highest praise, a taste unfamiliar to my mouth;
praise does not come so easily to me as the blade to a throat.
So have I not done enough to prove myself to you?
Have I not given all my heart, and all my soul, too -

Still no word. No answer.
The hunger inside my heart throws me forward,
edges me closer to the abyss,
the forlorn nothing, the never-ending absence,
a loveless mist to swallow me forever,
and you, my only savior, looking on,
your face a stone-cold mask.
You don’t want to let me in.
Don’t take my hand - for I could pull you down with me,
couldn’t I, my love?
The only power I possess is destruction.
This fragile bird of ours,
I swallow it whole between gnashing teeth,
and snap the neck of delicacy with the careless tongue
of unrequited love.

And who am I, after all,
but covered in dirt and blood, kneeling
at the altar of your love,
begging for my life as if
all the wars and battles won
matter nothing now. Perhaps they don’t -
what good is honor to me if
you crush it with one bare foot?
What good are strength and death and victory if
I was never destined to succeed in the king’s battle -
the last stand my heart could take, only to
lose the fight?
I have died more viciously by the sharp cut of your cool shoulder,
my love,
than I have ever hurt at the hands of a thousand men.

I, warlike, once a God,
wounded and fallen, now,
collapsed without dignity at your feet,
pleading for mercy
and crying, with every sense of emotion,
“I love you.”
Marco Apr 18
HOT WIND ON YOUR SKIN BURNS YOUR FACE BURNS YOUR EYES BURNS YOUR HANDS LIKE THE SAND BURNS YOUR FEET BURNS YOUR THIGHS YOUR BRAIN FRIES IN THE HEAT
AND YOU CANNOT STAND IT ANY LONGER PARCHED AND THIRSTY DYING OF THIRST NO WATER ANYWHERE NOT A DROP NOT EVEN TEARS OR SWEAT TO WET YOUR TONGUE NOTHING TO TOUCH YOUR THROAT LIKE THE MEMORIES OF HER OF HIM OF EVERYONE WHO EVER LOVED YOU ALL
THE MEN AND WOMEN YOU LET INTO YOUR BEDROOM ALL THE HANDS THAT TOUCHED YOU AND ALL THE LIPS THAT KISSED AND ALL THE TONGUES THAT LICKED THE SWEAT FROM YOUR SKIN THAT BURNED WITH LUST AND LONGING AND DESIRE UNBOUND AND NOW THE DESERT HOT AND EMPTY NO WATER TO BE FOUND NO TOUCH TO BE FELT NO SOUND TO BE HEARD ONLY SUN SUN SUN AND HEAT HEAT HEAT AND SAND SAND SAND NOTHING BUT THE GREAT BIG SKY SILENT AND BLUE
AND THE HEAPS OF SAND YELLOW BURNING SAND DUNES AND DUNES OF FINE GRAIN
JESUS WENT INTO THE DESERT AND MOSES WENT INTO THE DESERT AND YOU WENT INTO THE DESERT BUT YOU DID NOT FIND GOD HE IS NOT HERE HE IS ELSEWHERE ANYWHERE BUT HERE JESUS AND MOSES LIED THEY NEVER MET HIM THEY CAME HERE TO DIE AND LET THEIR EGOS PERISH AND IN THAT THEY DISCOVERED GOD DISCOVERED THEMSELVES DISCOVERED THEIR SOULS TO KNOW YOURSELF IS TO KNOW GOD MY FRIEND AND THERE IS NO GOD IN THE DESERT UNLESS YOU WANT TO CALL YOURSELF THE GOD OF YOUR OWN LIFE AND THE GOD OF YOUR OWN CREATING THE GOD OF YOUR OWN HEART AND MIND AND SOUL
AND YOU COME BACK CLEANSED THE DESERT NEVER LEAVES YOU YOU COME BACK CLEANSED AND READY AND GOOD AND GOD YOU COME BACK A GOD.
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