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Butch Decatoria
Poems
Sep 2021
Hunger / Thirst
Oh hollow Thirst!
How it drowns out life's liquid scenes,
All trenchant memory now
It dries the tongue;
When recollection swims with dire aches
In the stomach lingering
Deserts
once oasis-providence:
the ease of us
sifting with the sand
Minutes limpid between caress.
Creation our chalice overflows
Quenching in each other.
Love for water.
As the hours go touching vastnesses
To open us / one heavenly sky :
Illuminating you
Both assuage and succor, mine.
But I am drought and man
Flesh heavy / crawling through
War's searing hills
Chafed of what made me fearless . . .
Once a Traveler discarding haste,
Still Thirsting for the palm trees’ shade, the momentous
Still-pictures of bodies of ours we felt and
Still continuously feeling.
It is as though an affliction’s game
To wait
Between search and weaning
No swift elixir
I am just a bare tree leaning.
(praying for love's rain...)
This Thirst is deeper than remembering
The drink that once was Us.
. . . .
Halcyon,
I’m bathing in your adoration,
Nothing so sinful, or minuscule, as to need
Redemptive rinses of the spirit
When we were
As what we only knew how to be,
Ourselves yet together sharing feasts...
Which we lay out for each other
Ceremonious only through the unveiling,
Knowing how to trust in this (which is between us).
Oh How to feed that old hunger, The longing for you,
Love soft mornings dew on skin,
Like when we had the outdoors with our mischief, bodies
Attentive as the grass when we look within…
Those bright eyes that pierce me deeper now
Understanding / how my breath always quivers
With the slight tips of your tender fingers.
Wish makes the body famished and weakened
Needing
The food from in between kiss and spark
Lovely of smiles that shares heaven’s glee,
In each other’s sensations, feeling the answer
Rather than being told to eat…
The Reveries of wines tasted, the lifting of all things
To a memory, yet not having the full course
Of dining with serenity, finding that destiny
Has yet to begin
When love was the race I was questioning,
Kindnesses were supposedly human,
While dreams came true with happy endings..?
Hunger can make the world seem cruel
When we give up on searching for meaning,
We ourselves make
The feast of All meals
with our believing.
Revised repost
Written by
Butch Decatoria
47/M/Las Vegas, Nevada, USA
(47/M/Las Vegas, Nevada, USA)
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