Saturday, September 25, 2010

Love Letter 317 Churning me, Turning to You

It troubles my spirit that I could be so callous, My Love
even this disingenuous spirit, with all these cathedrals built to mecca, which bow in indifference
still know you to be my only soul
all these shacks against the only coast I care about
all these benign exemptions
and trivial disencounters
I beg my flesh to arise a portal to you
but I am still sinking... a self-enrolled, defensive fish
defending my army of ingrates, my superficial empire of hideous loathing

have I butchered you
or captured your spirit
have I give you the holy host or the highest praise?
have I sat in sherlock holmes' position, questioning the very art of how it is you are?

No My Love
I have done nothing
for nothing I do
touches your coat
all of my howlings: inconsequential
all of my dreary impetus chants
all impotent theories, like, rhetoric on a dead bach

My Dear
I have held my defenses, my castle walls swell with pious ill-humor
I cannot let down my very insignificant guard
not even knowing that in me, You live
I have given you my shadow
I have made for you a friend
with which I wrestle
I have torn apart the shore I live in and rest on
and more, I have given the very labyrinth of my berth
to Him

If I wanted to be with you, I would twist all my wounds into one perfection....
wouldn't I?

If I were truly grateful, I could bend... and behave

If I were mortal, I would recognize you as the only one thing which could distinguish me from hell or death or rampant self-indulgence

but you, Lord, Perfecter of the Art of Love
have taken all my brazen religions, have pulverized my sense of humor, have fit me with a castle full of thieves and angry widows
have taken for my grapes of hope, a path of solemn leaves

My Love
You have given me Your armband
and like a warlock
I keep it
hidden
so that someday
I may arise a priest

but now, in this daily living,
I am given to personality
and constant honoring of my own single-ized, impervious wave

You come to me in many forms
and often, I shoo you away
the Aries,
the Capricorn,
The Holy Ghost
and a million thorns connected to my sacred salutation

Oh Lord,
You fill me
with all this angst
and love
and it becomes
a test
to see
who
will come up laughing
today

The Eternal Apology
lives in me
The Eternal Apology
finds its way
...
after I leave

after I have accosted yet another messenger
of
everything.

I want to believe you
and return to you
purring like an infinite kitten
but, Love
your remedy
is like a sneeze
in my Aquarian system
and though I bow to you
my back goes stiff
in the cult of seeing you in all others

I still am weak
I still am not enough love
I still am seeing the world
half decorated
in my sense of habitual humor
how I see the world
when I can hear you clearly
is so different
than how I see
when I am churning my own melody

My Love,
Forgive Me
My Love Is Feeble
Yet it Lives

Your Beloved

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