COCOONING IN HIS HEART FOREVER.

Cocooning away with my
Lover David P Carroll today
Falling in love with him feels so beautiful every day,

It's like climbing a mountain
Once your at the top you truly
See it's beauty between you and me,

Together in love we'll be with the Lord's
Blessings shining upon us
Every day we thank him and
Pray to him for our happiness and joy we share together every night,

So just listen to my heart
Every day it's beating
I love you I could never love Another man darling
As much as I truly love you.

My Name is Shepard: When King David was very old, he could not keep warm


                                        *****­*
ancient kings grow aged, time offeres no exemptions,
hard life body, worn from glory, battle hoary, many women,
his story was not an allegory, it was allegorical story retold,
a poet loved the lord, sunk to sin, pride, yet, always asking why,
for all kings have boundaries, limits, even offenses unforgivable.

his psalms depleted, his eyes rapid failing, and the warmth
gone missing was not from his body, that but a side casualty,
his eyes were to mountains cast, wondering whence will come.
a warmth needed live forever, knowing full well no such power
exists except his Lord’s lasting embrace, their joint, last verse.

                                              <>

My name is David, born a shepard boy, dying a king, a human saved
by the hand of the Lord from the paw of the lion and jaws of the bear,
gave courageous trust to slay a Philistine giant, the greatest gift?

To pen powerful words that long outlived my actions and misdeeds,
a gift transferred to you and you, a certain knowledge that truthful
writs, will be your everlasting scrip and scripture, a name well recalled, poems of praise, songs of lament and sorrow, lyrics of wisdom, even those of mistakes, errors of sin, asking for wisdom for the greatest bravery, to ask, and greater still, to give forgiveness.

the warmth I seek will arrive at last, as the watchmen recite my poems by candlelight to me, as I ascend to meet my maker, the candle giving both heat and light for this is the dual nature of human life, this balance striven to leave our ledger level, letting our history be an honest reflection of we we were, who we hoped to be, and the record giving the warmth of our human truths long lasting.

                                            

You’re a disembodied voice
only appearing in mirrors
like the Candyman.
Sometimes I look into the mirror
and say your name three times
then finish jerking off.

a state of standstill is a state of decline
an excess of sediment, an ineffective wine

i only hear that defining moment of time
in the less and less frequent creaking of the keys
the same old letters sadly clack

but can't ever get it back
heart's not in it
can't stay ******
overreactions come to attack

an embarrassing pervert that you already *****
every hour since a desperate hour
wolf crying wolf every five seconds
where the collective cower

****** is always his death name
dont wear it out
wear it where the collective cower

every hour since a desperate hour
hands in the pockets
of that dress with pockets

calling out his death name
when the coming time comes

wolf hands caught in the pockets
of that dress with the pockets

her milk is him

her eyes are full of good tidings,
washing my body with lavender soap cake,
all the dirt crumbs of a hard life drained
into a circle of holes that carry away carings,
to places where their squeaking can’t be heard

her hands, pillows for a head so sorrow-weighty,
her body, her hips, a bed upon to rest,
and he wonders,
how did he exist before she become his nest,
her hair of grass, now, a coverlet for twigs and strings,
when then he laid his body down for disturbed sleep

her milk is him, a restorative that refreshes his content,
how did, once upon a time, he let existence subtract
his time on earth without any relativity, time unrecognizable,
he was in no one place, pathless, subsidizing nothing,
unable to distinguish tween the straight and the curved

her milk in him, whitens his soul, she calls out,
“you are my shepherd, my king, my David,
my white marble sculpture of our current existence,
when you drink the white of me, it is I who is fulfilled,
when you write of me, your milk is me”

Son of Ham, slave of slaves, reigned.
Humiliated, but unrepentant, defiant, and unfearing,
They asked for one of theirs to be king.
Saul, anointed and prophesied, crowned king.
David, feigned madness, fought for the Philistines.