A companion poem to:
When Love Grows Old [1]




a differing perspective,
liking the eye opening
view this occluded,
cloudy closed Saturday,
a morning gray, early days,
it comes with opportunities
aplenty & new word combinations
in a new world awaiting a Magellan
I spy discoverer, and
we
two
have more than 150 years
existence tween us and that
makes me grin, because I anointed
her to a new position yesterday:
Chief Technology Officer

the very expensive machine
that supplies us with energizing
fresh plasma, clean blood invigorating, without which
we could nary drag our antiquated
bodies to the next day,
got on the phone, dialed an
800 number,
stuck het hand deep into it's gizzard innards, and released the
machina from it looping flashing
display of displaying its non-cooperation and its message that
It was unwell, abd she operated,
and made out coffee machine well
again



snd gave us this Sabbath, a reason to be thankful having righted this
left footed poet to a younger
poet boy~man
again, a gain!

it is without guile or guilt

more a minor shock & swoosh,

that the power to please oneself

comes so easily without interference,

new and the familiar, a mixture of

stand alone, but jumbled, mumbling &

partying in concert, inflation inflicted

words within, falling out onto personal

plains of skin of human vegetation, into

human orifices to be tongue-tasted, be

drunk by ears open for sensuality, be

touched, fondled, pressed and creased

for storing in the bank of memory, by

irrigation of eye droplets falling from

all human’s white sight~gatherers, by

nostrils flaring, reddened by waves

of excitations and pleasured anticipations,

whenever your new combinations of

words intermingle me, a step closer to

a being, drinking in additions whole,

achieving a holier than previous

experience

When skies cry, /
I dare not doubt /
For I know every tear has meaning, /
& not one of them is forgotten: /
Tenuous, airy, heady, divine, sublime. /

He raises me to heights empyreal, supernal /
When I have ascended triumphal arcadian skies /
I fathom the redolent reverie has not ended, /
Rather, I am one /
With all things. /

Crystalline, intemerate, pearlescent /
His glistening irides /
They gleam, they shimmer /
With a luminosity that is interstellar: /
Divo! /

Every morn he awakens me anew /
Reminding me that I still possess life, love, liberty, /
& embrace! /
With boundless freedom, /
I unfurl the wings to soar. /

The clairron voice of The Sovereign of Songbirds awakens me every morn. /
The musicality within, /
I fathom it /
Will never leave me. /
It cascades upon me incessantly. /

(—Se' lah )

I like the way she holds my arm when walking…

up high, under the shoulder,
firm grasp on muscle, feeling
the blood beat acoustically, in joy,
sensually sensing a thrumming
thrombosis messaging, this is a
full bodied animation, liquid life,
“strong to drink”
“strength to break
off pieces and keep,”
a supporting mutuel
pillar column post,
given, taken, entrapped,
enwrapped, ensnared,
and
enshrined, mighty fine
feeling
“indeed”
pieces to mine,
pieces of mine

her taking is acceptable
my taking reciprocal
for her needs fulfill,
I,
walk taller, straighter,
in fuller strides, and when
she stumbles in the obstacle
course of nyc crack-ed sidewalkslop,
her whoosh of breath expelled
when saved by the arm firmament,
goes unremarked, for this is my
purposed occupation and the
occlusion of our skin cells
in tight bandwidth is certification
that our love is so much more than
mere skin deep,
or as she so oft summarizes, life is,
“indeed,” or in deed.

olp

Found family
When will I find a family?
Those pretty families in books
Where they all settle around the table
Laugh and make jokes
Everyone is so perfect for one another
Why do I have to settle for this?
Why am I stuck with what I was given?
What I was born into?
How is it fair?

1,000 yrs ago is nothing in the
  tower of when. Standing on
a rock 2 million years past.

The future is present and
   the present is last.