And the jejune...just like that
it leaves my life.
And the mundane of it all?
The looking of both ways and crossing,
The tieing of shoelaces...
the washing of hands.
And the dullness of it all suddenly shines like a sharpened knife
on a darkened shelf
in a forgotten home
That is now just a house.
Glistens like that. Out of place and unexpected.
And all of the sudden
the sun lifts her goddess body
stretching forth her sinewy limbs,
just for me ...playfully fondles my skin with heat.
Undeserving, inconsiderate me.
And without any predisposition
the ocean dredges the finest, tiniest grains of sand
for me,
          for me.
Vain.
Reckless me.
Turns over an hourglass glistening with his diamond dust
and just like that...
And I am grateful, yes I am humbled.
And I will clutch it, I will seize it.
I will patronize, I will hoard.
And I will covet it, herald. Proclaim.
And I will know that time? Seconds hands, he stroke me now. Hours wind around my wrist and bind my eyes with red slithery silken sashes-
And Love? Fickle stroke of her pen and just like that
I am chosen.
Moved from the side of the street where a damp mold covers the crumbling bricks...
and the people I pass, they look up at me now
nodding with a secret knowing. Because
we are chosen for this love, We are the elite. Plucked from the remaining pugilists.
And just like that he loves me.
Just like that it swallows me whole
...And just like that, love.

Sahn 7/2/2014

My Darling, My Dearest
I sink to the dirt,
My regrets swirl around my body like a brides wedding dress.
White lace, virginal unsoiled regrets lay about me lazily-
biting my ankle, scratching up my legs to be held.
My Cherished Treasure,
I will carry my torment like an old man carries his walking stick
Gnarled with time and miles,
before any step I will take-
My regret will mark the path.
And I will walk for all of time with my walking stick. I will walk until I bend over in a broken bridge of bones, all the while letting my regret lead me onward.
My Beloved,
I will wallow in the mud of my sorrows and grief
I will roll and dry, caking dirt on my belly-
like the beast I have become.
My Beautiful,
The wounds that mortification of the flesh will produce-
will be sorry attempts to understand your pain.
The whip braided in tight thick leather
but I can never cut deep so I might
produce enough depth so instead will I bleed-
another sin, another crime!
I cannot feel your suffering-can only guess at the depth.
Oh the endlessly black waters of your sorrow!
I hold my breath, stones piled deep in my pockets.
I dive, I dive...wanting, needing this sacrifice.
But **** this survivalist in me. My lungs betray me-
sputter and cough.
I inhale my water of my sins and breathe them deep so I may drown and
free you from the shackles of my crimes.
My Cherished one, my Shining one-
Forgive this old sinner, forgive this reprobate heart.
For I love you.
When the stars exploded, when universes expanded
I loved you.
When the first blade of grass poked it's willful head above soil,
I loved you.
When first Adam kissed Eve,
I already loved you.
In the next life where you are caterpillar and
I am stump,
I love you then too, and beg you use me to reach closer the sun.
Forgive a fool his foolish ways, he knows no better
Forgive me, cherished one
and let me love you,
Let me love you as the faulted love the Divine. As the sinner loves the penance, as the child loves the stars.
Let me give you the moon, let me put it in on your lips.
So you may kiss the moon, beloved, kiss the moon.

Sahn 7/6/14

I thought when I'd turn to moss,
- when i had left myself to root.
When I had laid me down at last,
Than I'd not miss you endlessly.
I did not know I'd find my soul
dancing lithely in a flame.
A spanish dancer I've become
flickering my reds and blues.
I jump from wick to match to ash
and dance my saraband, contritely.
Yet I thought that when I sighed so lastly
undone would neatly fold away
like origami boutonniere
I'd be pressed between your book
something that you'd heave to shelf
and only gather dust and time.
Regrets, it seems, don't like
to die. So
I'm left haunted by my haunting.
And had I known before I wept
that remonstration without intention
was leaving all the notes unsung
by leaving catching in my voice.
I am singing in the mountains, madly
about what does not skip in the fields
and what does not drip from the sapling...
For love does neither frolic gayly
as much endures beyond repentance.
and I am left, on pebble shores
forever with my sharp withholdings
Stubbornly I held onto them,
Now they cut my like small diamonds.
I am glass and they are listless
wasted, mindless, pointless prattle.
Remind me fresh our penalties for
All the love we do not spend.

Sahn
7/01/2014

I catch you in the petrichor,
I catch the musk of you-
the dark of you,
the vanishing drought of you
I dance within your jejune dusk-
empty hollow hunger howls,
'no substance here, no substance here'
and in every day that I get to love you-
I'll love you in the jamais vu.
so that I can forget I know how
and learn to love you
yet again.
Felicity, I'll bring to you.
In a basket, on a bike-
I'll wear a fetching hat
with a ribbon down my back
as I sing to you in symphonies that echo in an empty room.
I'll sit delicate on Icarus wings
and love you till I melt-
Knowingly I'll greet the sun
swimming in the candle wax-
I'll have done all these things yet not enough
Till I've loved you when the day is done.


sahn
6/30/2014

I am just your average sinner,
sly glances say, I am second chance, time around .
I spin mediocre wildest-dreams
in rundown hope hotels
I am just a pretty sinner with a
dusty trail of lust
like green pollen in my wake.
A vehicle of possibility
to all the places we can drive our devils,
with cocktails and vague musician
who lean back on wooden chairs, against walls of fading paint.
with tables for sins
to be laid out like Thanksgiving.
My sins are neon signs in yellowed rooms,
My sins are rusted cans kicked in old beach towns.
My sins are hot pavement under cracked rubber tires rumbling above.
My back arched in a prayer to the sky.
The rise of my hipbones like majestic mountains.
My sins leak from my eyes. First one, then another.
Down, Down they fall
I fall to my knees.
They fall and I curse them for leaving me too.
I fall to my knees like the traveler who has journeyed too long,
On my knees and  I kiss the dirt of home.
I am humbled and groveling...within my sinning.
And I pray a much louder prayer. I am a much humbler servant, with much to forgive.
I wear my sins like a raincoat to keep me dry from all the
good intention and 'well-deserved!' that might be coming my way.
I twist my sin into a paper flower and wear it in my sinful hair next to my sinful eyes by my sinful mind.
I am just your average sinner
Dreaming of living a better life someday.
Praying to be a better me, someday.
Someday is a funny place to live
With towering hopes
and skyscraping desires scratching at its sterile walls.
No, not for me.
I am just your average sinner...
with extraordinary sins.

Seven times I told you,
Seventy pins in seventy dolls on seventy dusty shelves in New Orleans backrooms.
Seven times I warned you
Seven hundred aches, seven hundred acres
I run across.
I outrun the burn and I outrun the grief
The witch in me, I race with her too.
Seven miles to run, seven miles behind.
And I pass that playful laugh of yours, grab at it
and stick it in my pocket, shove it deep, deep in my pocket.
And I pass that twinkle in your eyes
and I grab that too,
send it on a paper rocket flying the speed of light into seven universes far away.
I grab that last promise
the one that was slippery and hard to hold onto.
I grab it and hold it tight
And I run.
I told you I would
(you looked so surprised).
I run and my bones hit the ground with the rhythm and pulse of a tribal drummer
He drums out in my head
Run, Run, henny Run.  
He drinks my optimism from a cup, then beats his drum. Run, chickadee, run run.
He vomits my clarity at my feet all the while his brown weathered hands drum a ceaseless beat. Run, baby. He loves you not, run.
On the seventh day I run from you and
I find that I am made now from the down of your hair
so I run until I am bald.
I find that I am made now from  stalactites dripping from your tongue.
Celtic knot of assurances and reassurances.
I am made up of moments that I didn't make.
I am made up of your indecision. They bounce gleefully "I don't know, I don't know..."
they insist as they hit walls and corners.
They are lazy, I outrun them with ease.
Seven times I told you,
Itchy souls need to find a branch for stratching.
Seven miles between me and you
Seven hundred to go.

Sahn
6/12/14

Optional is not an option anymore.
I will roam
and I will writhe.
I will rally, rebuild.
I will pave a road,
I'll launch a ship.
I'll race a train, I'll run like hell.
I'll **** the marrow from my spine.
I'll hold my head above the moon.
I'll dive in the deep, I'll chase a bullet.
I'll wander out,
I'll slide away.
I'll lead an army and bomb the past.
Declare unrest and start new rule.
Crown a new king,
I'll carve a new stone.
I'll turn a new leaf and I'll sing a new song.
I'll make a new wish
And I'll burn a new bush.
I'll write a new page
And jump in with both feet.
I'll love a new lover
And befriend whom you hate.
I'll start a campaign.
I'll torch down our home.
Then move heaven and earth one inch to the left.
I'll shake. I'll regroup.
I'll push and I'll ****.
Reincarnate
Regurgitate.
I'll weave... I will tide.
I'll bend, and I'll bob, and I'll steal,
*I WILL TAKE! *
Because optional's not an option...
Anymore.

Sahn   6/8/14