Wednesday, March 14, 2007

What to a void

hat o void calls me back to you
     except laziness and nostalgia
     on this chilly july morning
     when no sun is up
     and my sap runs low
I wish to be reborn
     delivered of your sybaritic influence

O for a mantic tangent
     a shot that clears this dread propinquity

What o void calls me back to your plump arms
     you escape-clause in my contract with mundane earth
Is it your offer of incomparable perfection
     blissful opulence of nought
     inhabiting a boundless bosom
     to suckle or nest on
     cleavage adorable

I thought i'd forsaken childish things
     this whirling back into dizzied emptiness
     and guilt-edged dreams
     almost beyond the reach of shame and hurt inconsolable
     as if thrall to the humours of that spume-begotten sea-witch, Aphrodite
     who surfs the bowling beach-waves
     with fractal joy
     spiralling into solipsism
     and faint death

I know why i return o void
     to lie me down
     and enter through the omphalic portal
     the hermetic vale
     forbidden to human consciousness else
     where i would tap
     the psychic impulse
     of the elemental womb

O black sinkhole uncharted
     what to avoid is you
     on your terms
     thou plausible one
     petulant when night is done
     so go    go    go
     before i succumb

     to dream
     is one thing asleep
     and awake another


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