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Terrence Polcari Jul 2019
It was an act of purest love
That required her to **** him . . .

The bond between them was forged
Over so many years of going in the same direction—
Fighting the same fight
Siblings alike in manner
Muse and cause

Her eyes were like spear points
               Spinning in carefully veiled compassion
Over what she must do next

He lay still as stone
Looking now as he once had before . . .
Her pride slipped then finally dying in Angry Joy
Savage and sharp as a Bitter Molten Sword

She deeply knew this Blood Price must be paid
But the balance of things Lost Forever
Stilled her hand a few moments longer—

Favoring him with calm examination
She was at a loss for words
But there was no one to tell anyway—
And once done would haunt her ever more

So with defiant resignation
And tolerant acceptance
She clamped it all together
And did what she had avoided for much too long

Her counsel cleared . . .
Her actions deliberate

Then against the bronze-rose colored wall
A woman’s silhouette breathed—
Moved

And quietly Pulled the Plug . . .
Terrence Polcari Jun 2019
Alluring sensations
Whispered lucid suggestions

Wrap her—
In embers hot

Take her—
In fires untamed

And lick her—
Like stars in my blood . . .
Terrence Polcari Jun 2019
65 million years later
The New Dinosaur sits in his Bill Blass suit
Staring from a windless tower
Surveying all that is his

Still clinging to the equation
Survival of the fittest

He holds desperately to
His bleached out dreams
But still, he can find no beauty
No moral certainty
No final answers

Save for the answer
Of dying alone
In a Dark Valley of Arrogance
And Despair

Far away from truth—
And the solace of serenity and fulfillment
For his refusal to Unify in Oneness

And in the distance
THE ALL shakes His mighty countenance

“Time to start again . . .“






Authors note:  Dinosaurs ruled the Earth 250 million years.  Mankind has roughly been around
a mere couple million. . .  by the stupidity of our arrogance and superiority complex, the warning signs are there— our time is running out. . .
Terrence Polcari Jun 2019
Something felt prophetic about the night
The music was alive with velvet promise

Like melodic jewels dropped from heaven
A quiet storm of desire descended upon them

His gentleness was eager and excited
Her grace was brave and honest
Both intense in their willingness

She smiled into his eyes then –
Such exquisite torture
His heart too full for speech

In short course his flesh fused into hers
Down reaching into her very bones

And the floodgates of bliss
Tumbled lavishly mixed with the sound
Of their silken sighs

Words spoken so easily
In their smoldering passion
As he called out to God
And in deep ecstatic whispers
She swore in blood oaths

Their bodies became fluid
Like warm mercury mingling

Flowing hotly together as a Single River
Into the farthest reaches of forever
Terrence Polcari Jun 2019
If you perchance to look into the Abyss
                         Just remember—the Abyss also looks into you . . . ”
                                             – Friedrich Nietzche

I dared presume to reach the depths
Of Purest Pure Thought
To touch God . . .

Down through layers of consciousness deeply I dove—
And deeper still

Until I reached the critical junction of Fathomless Deep Awareness
Where the strobing slashes of light and dark
Became One Hellish Grey Maelstrom
Of Maddeningly Sheer Chaos

The Pearlescence of my identity all but squashed . . .

I beheld the cosmic linchpin of Balanced Pandemonium
Beautifully Resplendent and Repellently Frightful—

Wellspring of The All

It became as mental blows
Pounding lustrous images of Divine Oneness
Into my being . . .
I was connected into the foundation of All
And it terrified me beyond repulsion—
I could bare the Allness Beauty
Of Swirling Hideous Nothing/Something
But an instant only

Aft I desperately swam
Rearward through tiers of awareness
Voraciously upward back into reality
Shaking in raw Astonishment—
Tear-eyed disbelief

And pure Horror . . .
Terrence Polcari Sep 2018
Mid autumn’s eve
Dancing dust and flickering campfire alive

The slumbering women
With narrow waists
Fan the white-hot humidity
Rising in our *****

We are torn by a peculiar ***** pain
And an Ancient Whisper tells us to take them

But a Hollow Echo retorts our hammering heart
To be patient in our sleepless heat
As a watcher in the woods
Until the women’s voices
Are darkly wet with desire—
               But we cannot wait . . .

An impish grin then pulls our lips
When the sinister silence
Drapes over the desirable women

We span their length with our imagination
Full bosomed and tawny skin—
Musk and wildflowers lavishly call us
And we, carefree with the flames
Take them with a Ruling Passion

Fast dance and star fire
Clawed and kicked fought and spit
Struggling dearly to save their thighs
Against the Velvet Night

Blood smell becomes the campfire
Dancing dust dies
And we return to our sleepless side
Our Eternal Hunger satiated for the moment

And the narrow waists
Lying spent and used were Murderously Furious—
               But we could not wait . . .

— The End —