everything changes

He looks back now
at the words he once wrote
with such effusive passion
and dauntless hope
in the heady days of youth
when life felt endless
and love eternal.

In one regard, I must say,
he breathes easier now,
at least for a time,
knowing so much better
what ideals really mean
and what it is that hope,
in all honesty, represents.

Those whose hearts
breathe blissful being,
careless of tomorrows,
may yet happily know
the fulsome joys
of love so very pure
and unrestrained.

But everything changes,
and nothing weighs down
with greater severity
than to see the ponderous
decay of primal passion
when the light of adoration
is slowly extinguished.


i know, it is not for me to say
save by the barest fault
of my conspicuous humanity
bowing before marble altars
embedded with fragile bone

these well disciplined affirmations
so bereft of honest intent
decree god’s hollow victory
more than divine declarations
and inflated parish rolls

in the aisles of kirks shuffling humbly
over carpeted mosques bowing modestly
yet sauntering through the streets
mulling over munificent gestures
mincing every well-advertised charity

while in tomb-like concealment
cementing these mortal bonds
degenerative organs frantically copulate
seething in copious want
moaning overzealous praise

the prophylactic vision of one
is surely as appalling
as the permissivity of the other—
together have you denuded passion
of its honest innocence

what answer can a man offer:
to hell with your fumbling chastisements
enough of your lascivious breath
bearing down on fearful hearts
stifling the harmony of flesh and soul

pressed against the well-worn tiles
within each house of god
the aching knees of submissive man
do bear far greater weight
than his heart ever has

Salt Lake City 03 Feb 2013

your mystic vines

can you feel it still
my yet distant love
my finger tracing
your celtic lines

the mystic vines
that fertile whisper
your boundless being

tremulous twines
twisting in and out
and eternally about
the sensuous core
of your adorèd self

of you, who remains
ever rising and falling
over my pleading flesh

enmeshed by this
the frailest of skin
screaming with pleasure
engorged with moans

this errant wanderer
this timid teacher
this desperate dancer

who clinging needs
you still, needs the touch
of your blossoming
reddening warmth

the moistness of you
the twining vining
of my ever only you

Salt Lake City 30 Aug 2012