artist's hands press her solidly
to a brilliant kaleidoscope of elegant golden bones and glittering skin;
strong palms resting with easy power
on the pliant wilderness of her hips,
heavenly flesh blossoming recklessly
into lush riots
of honeysuckle and savage roses.

from a little girl's shy smile he coaxes
the untamed laughter and rapturous moans of a grown woman's
wild pomegranate mouth;
licks tears of wondering ecstasy from widening, curious eyes,
pulls from her hips the feral undulations that, unchecked,
could unravel a tyrant's paradise.

he offers knowledge,
a sticky, illicit fruit into which she sinks
her
pretty white teeth.

deep crimson juice flows in starry rivulets  
from softly parted lips to heaving ribs,
traverses gently a milky expanse
of breath and taut muscles,

halting to illuminate suddenly
a glowing womb,
freshly radiant with new life.

In the beginning, there was  Genesis (Life),
placing an emphasis
on expressing just what is stressing us
We keep testing ourselves and what's surrounding us
We're always hurting ourselves, shadows are doubting us

But sunny days exist to remind us
the road less traveled keeps our fears far behind us
We seek a glimpse of the hope we're taught to wish upon,
the secret fault in our stars, the ones we're wishing on

Truth is protruding a menacing declaration
Living life bottom’s up 'cause we're searching for inspiration
Matter over the mind, alcohol over manners
Obsessive, manic depressive,
we're always dropping the hammer

We feel the happiness, the hate, and the heartbreak
the undeserving hurt and the fears that raise our heart rate
the fond memories and the catchy melodies,
the lasting friendships and irreplaceable family...

...and then with Life comes  Death,
we see it everyday - the sick and hungry losing health
We make do with the bitter taste of joy,
that sweet scent of sorrow,
functioning in a manner
that distances our tomorrow

Bury the ones that we've lost,
the hands of time are clapping
Standing ovation to loss?
We question what just happened....

...and after death comes  Enlightenment (Synthesis),
We're taking sage advice
from the ones who brought us into this

You give a man a fish?
He's fed and on his way,
but if you teach a man to fish,
you feed him everyday

Rip off a piece of that canvas,
paint to your heart's content,
and trust that we'll understand this
and give you our consent

Very capable of manifesting a journey
so write to the beat of your rhythm
but please, not in a hurry

Just close your eyes and dream,
and listen to the stream
Tune yourself to the infinite
and find your inner theme.

The Elders took me to church
and planted me on the back row
to squirm and fidget
while they filled my head with stories
of women like Delilah,
          who seduced Sampson
          and used her body
          to weaken a warrior,
and Bathsheba,
          whose nakedness upon her own roof
          made David falter
          from king to killer,
but told me that I will lose
value after I grant a man
permission–should he even ask–
to lay his hands on me,
as if the priest and prosecutor
could preach purity
into my dry bones
and watch me rise up before them
without ever having realized
the power I possess
within my own rib cage.

*"And the serpent said unto the woman,
'You will surely not die."

Though Adam & Eve were so cute
With God they had a dispute
Thrown out of the garden
Without any pardon
And all because of some fruit

What do I know about what has been taken from me?
It is dangerous any more at this age to sleep for very long,
as I may awake not even recognizing myself.

Some part of me leaves without my permission,
departs into its own journey each night--
perhaps into the stars.
What is left open in the empty space
where I have been ribbed and robbed?
It appears as a widening of flesh
that seems to resist closing,
a sacred wound from on high places,
carved with a determined and prosperous hand.

What returns to me?
How it arrives
is the same amount of mystery that was taken.

I see someone beside me,
outside of me,
who requests that we be added to each other--
a blend that only much deep sleep can provide.

This has come to me for help;
to help with what I once thought I needed
and for what I knew had been taken from me.
Now it is apart from me and stands beside me,
I awake with the pain of a blessed departure
that has stirred inside of me.

The beginning of a story
Read with me, if you desire
At dawn a huge explosion
Filled the void with fire,
Cooled and hardened into rock,
Orbits now another star,
A life sustaining prison
Caterpillars in a jar.

A thousand, thousand, thousand years,
Then a thousand, thousand more
Passed as though an eye blink
Before a creature crawled to shore.
What miracle was engineered?
Creating ocean from a fire,
Creating algae in the ocean,
And life from muck and mire?

Was the engineer benevolent?
With a careful laid out plan?
Or is the earth a failed experiment
Where the byproduct is Man?
And if Man was unintended
What results were meant to be?
Would earth have been a better place
With just oceans, land and trees?

Maybe chemical reactions,
On this random, rolling stone
Were responsible for all its life
Chemicals alone.
Astronomic odds against it,
But the odds of Heaven are high as well.
I cannot comprehend it.
That story someone else must tell.
Phil Lindsey June, 2015