These lovers’ inklings which our loves enmesh,
Lost to the cunning and dimensional eye,
Though tenemented in the selves we see,
Not more perforce than azure to the sky,
Were necromancy-juggled to the flesh,
And startled from no daylight you or me.


For trance and silvermess those moons commend,
Which blanch the warm life silver-pale; or look
What ghostly portent mist distorts from slight
Clay shapes; the willows that the waters took
Liquid and brightened in the waters bend,
And we, in love’s reflex, seemed loved of right.


Then no more think to net forthwith love’s thing,
But cast for it by spirit sleight-of-hand;
Then only in the slant glass contemplate,
Where lineament outstripping line is scanned,
Then on the perplexed text leave pondering,
Love’s proverb is set down transliterate.

How do I get through to you.
and explain to you,
when you speak Martian
and I speak Venusian?
It's so difficult for me to transliterate
b/c there are no words that translate
directly.....
At least not effectively...
Lest we resort to sign language
and middle fingers never make anything better.

So what do we do?
...Nothing.
Just sit around with an air of misunderstanding.
We missed the point
and we missed understanding...

And then you wonder why my eyes
are glassier than they should be...
and then you ridicule me..
but in Martian that means you don't comprehend
which in Venusian that doesn't translate right.

But, "I love you", does.
And, "I need you", does...
Why don't you just say that?

Inconspicuous day

We gather in greatness (a meeting of many)

I sit with
Poets and painters and prophets alike

        casual and comfortable
                          surreal and social

We talk about
               methods and theories (fundamentals of frequencies)

And we talk about
               dreams and desires (delving in depth)

And we talk about
              the present and the future (conceptual credences)
                         And let us not forget the past...

We, the artists, united, bound together
                    By lucidity, like minds, creative
                                         I list, list, listen to voices

I hear conversations about
           life and living

I hear conversations about
           songs and singing

I hear conversations about
           painters painting

I hear conversations about
           love and loving

I form limericks in my mind, (mindless, whimsical)

And I am think, think, thinking

Thoughts and ideas gather and dissipate

I transliterate the ideas of others

I sense complexity thrilling, (thrilling complexities)

And then suddenly, its quiet...

Silence engulfs our bated breaths,
Under the soft moonlight,
In the veils of the night,
We are together.
Tense yet relaxed,
My mind is tense as a bow,
My being is relaxed as the arrow which knows it will hit its target.
We are wilder than any beast.
We move in closer.
I relish your lips,
The sweet taste of your mouth,
Tongues lost in a passionate frenzy.
My arms draw you closer to me,
Trying to make you one with me.
I dare not let go, even for once,
I want to lose myself in your embrace.
Boldly, I Kiss the Curves of your Neck,
Slightly marking you with my teeth.
You, who put me in Conflict with myself,
Have reduced me to a Wolf.
Your clothes, are impair my Lust.
With swift movements, they are reduced to dust,
As I relish the Beauty of your pale skin.
This is wrong, but it makes me love you more.
I do not want to do this.
Yet I defile your lovely skin with Impure kisses,
My fingers"" tracing the ways of your *flesh.
I might hate myself in the morning, but tonight I'm all yours.
I whisper sweet nothings in your ears,
As we pause to draw breath in between our kisses.
Yet we scarcely draw apart.
This moment, this eternity is too short for me.
The lewd sensation of your skin against mine.
Sets my senses on fire.
I am burning, fading away.
Remember to wake me when I am lost in you.
As we do the rites of love,
The ones which man made sacrilegious so long ago,
Forgive me if I cannot find the words.
I cannot transliterate pleasure.
Yet as dawn breaks,
You slip out of my embrace.
You are a goddess, a dream,
Not for me to touch.
- Anonymous

If then a departure demands instruction
and your body when in pace

as signal of movement – elocutionary when
asked, a sworn answer force-defined

take enough space from ocean
and anticipate a barbed wind

within the finest day.
remember: contest all, if not

then sever what is yearned for:
a love, or a misguided another

returning for but not twice-over
a field but the densest perfume only when

accounted for. Foresight is to pull
the      weight away and transliterate

judgment: it is raining and how all
piecemeal and dragged heavily

within a home without furniture
awakened by no touch but of search

enough a call – a chain operates when
it desires to launch you out of

every territory of sleep –
wordless beside every morning.