She asked me, 'Do poets
fall in love?'...
and I tell her...
Do astronomers lose sight
of the stars when they look in the daytime?
For even the break of
dawn the stars do remain in the cloudless sky.
Visible in the space oceans they swim endlessly making their waves,
leaving tails and trailblazing ever seamlessly they burn brighter than
any of our skylights that we look up to in the evening.
When nightfall crawls in,
there they start to dance in our presence,
beautifully and elegantly they make the night sky as their dance floor.
The clouds present them behind their curtains as they curtail to an audience
that is us.
Staring at them they act accordingly and selflessly for their kind of humility
is one
leveled in the seams of those who color in the sky without blemish or contrast
this is why their luminosity of humility takes before any pride they have.
As the constellations
form so magically so is the pieces found in our heart.
Fixed they are in the sky while our heart seeks the fixes themselves they
belong together in a puzzle piece.
Missing a piece always they seem to find the imperfect match to each other
as the heart becomes one again there a constellation of us is not only
born but also painted in the canvas by those who see us in the night sky.
Do artists become
colorblind after making their masterpieces?
For even in canvasses and
sketches their eyes focus not on the contour lines
of our body but the flesh that breathes beneath us.
As they shape us irregularly so are the scars, bruises and contusions in our human canvas too.
Imperfect we are in the concept of carnal desire we knead, embrace and even
contort the very inch of our skin with an itch that only goes away when we are with each other.
That is why we embrace each other relentlessly holding onto every breath that we will never let go.
As do the paints they
have one that never loses the dye in which they have
dedicated to present the inconceivable act of their affection.
Enamored they are a condition in which they believe is healed when
their arms are raptured by the soulful saturation of the insatiable.
This feeling is one that
never ends…after all…
That is why we must learn not only to shed a tear
or break a sweat but also bleed in different places to
prove that our blood not only be thick
but it also runs in the same current as our heart does…- outwardly!
Molded in clay we are not
the bust
but the busted one in which our flesh carves so impurely
that when we feel each other’s texture it is not the smoothest of skins
that will keep us coming for more.
As it is the concave connection which is in our heart-
deeply embedded they sure shape not only
the confines of our body but they project also.
Do musicians lose rhythm
when their beat and tune become out of time?
Our voice is it not of an
ephemeral whisper?
Is it not the furies of hell that had scorned us for so long?
Or is it just a voice that speaks so beautifully that it brings us down to our
knees!
For when you speak, the whispers become the echoes then the echoes become the
whispers!
Oh such noise is indeed worth killing for but then I remember why I fell on my
knees in the
first place!
For Goddesses you are you
come to me in disguise like the sirens that long for my return in
the eyes of Charybdis.
Crash into me,
Crash into you,
for your voice so frigid I feel the throes chilling through my veins ready to
encase me.
No warmth, no light, just a whisper of your voice in my head going through as
you chill me so beautifully.
In what way does your
heart beat?
Harmonious in ways of where the waves whisper quietly in the stillness of the
winds-
peaceful in succession I pray the same way with your heart.
Tempestuous, through the storms where I fear my life would be taken away but
as I see the heart of what caused it I hold you once more that even as it
tears me apart to be with you let such ferocity take its way with me.
For what in the eyes of the storms will see when we are in their midst is
but the two of us holding closely together.
Melodious in my soul is where the longing of an unforgettable song will keep me
dancing
in the night where the stars fall they keep me in line with your heart.
Or…
Forlorn like the doldrums and monotones of our daily routine I seek to break
them
with a taste of the unorthodox for we do not belong in the monotony of
conformity
but in the ethereal freedom we have in the planes of Elysium.
Do philosophers regain
their sense of sanity when they run out of questions?
To think therefore we are
of the same species is it not but an anomaly?
For you and I are meant to be of two different paths, souls and ways.
Paths of where we didn’t
even see each other walking by until we
cross paths as to why we are here well…all I can say is
that it was us that crossed the road not anyone else.
Souls we are lost and empty but we do fill
ourselves of vast information
that when we think we have learned each other’s
idiosyncracies another will show its way.
As to show our way back home one must take a leap forward into
the great abyss that stares deeply into us for we are
not only catering to oblivion but to its entirety
so that we may find again each other on the other side.
Ways, mores, and ethics, are they not the
parlor tricks of how
we are to love one another.
As to be happily engaged we are, we must learn to take what
is in front of us and never break in stride.
This is after all a ritual and one must become one with another
to take the other’s responsibility and believe that they will be
there for each other.
Oh sanctified matrimony will you ever be more
sacrilegiously decadent as the next person who admits
that the unity of two people into one is murder.
For such unification is contractual and contextual rather than
emotional and metaphysical.
Metaphysical into the universe we are defined so connected
not to the divine but into the realm where
the divine is the feeling.
Emotional in response to the artiste where enlightenment
is but the nirvana and the key to the cosmos is where one’s
light shines so bright it lights the crowded spaces of
this beautiful room.
For all these things she asks me again, “Do
poets fall in love?”
And
I say to her,
"Poets don't fall in love"
"They break hearts first because there is no
heart
better for them than a brokenhearted one as it speaks
unspoken truths and hurtful accidents.
They bruise egos because
their mind that speaks so
voluminously is one filled with ego already so why
bring in the ego when it is to be beaten and let go of.
and
They pervert the conscientious consensus of the
consensual
for are we not two different beings ready to explore what is
found between the lines."
We fight intermittently and we create problems…if you don’t need
that then there is no relationship between the two �"
just another acquaintance.
Finally
we fall in love and deeply because...
we don't need a whole heart to love just half
would do or for that matter,
it could be any piece they find in you to create the rest.
For what is love with all the pieces becomes a chore not of an exploration
as it requires piecing them easily as to finding out if the shoe fits in the
first place.
Corners are never cut in a relationship for they are the reason
a stone is there to push you so that it gets to the edge.
What may ever pieces remain they pick apart, reshape and remold it to their
likeness
for whatever piece is missing in our heart it is stitched imperfectly right in
our heart.
we will learn to let go of their ego to GO
forward with you,
for that is a relationship they are willing to take into speed, frequency and
vibration.
Forward is after all comprised of whether taking the highs and lows of the road
as to
the destination will it lead us to heights of inexplicable moments.
For what is speed of our heartbeat can only be grasped by those who measure up
to
the time it took to know it was worth getting in the destination of the first
place.
As to know the madness it takes to love a person…well it can only be detected
by
the way we desire the finding of our love with them.
For love is not for the sane but for the insane because it takes
two to know
that even in love there is an inexplicable reason why things happen for a
reason.
Alas and ever so inescapably true, it just takes a simple touch!
As that touch flicks us a ripple is then caused by our action…
because it is the inaction of what it means to love.
and
they will not clear their conscience out there
because their love is filled with conviction and resolution...
So she says,
“Then if you are willing
to break my heart, at least buy me chocolates.
When we bruise our egos, let’s hug it out because it will lead to one thing
into another …
and whatever you have in your mind that leads us to temptation…
all you have to do is guide those fingers of yours and I’ll be yours for the
night.”
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