the bible in black and gold

the bible

in black and gold

i heard some stuff

also all the good poets

have read shit-loads

   of philosophy

and when they finish reading

fire comes down

and there is a white light

and even then

some times there is junk flowing through the vein

and they are not righteous

and they are not saints

and they would never

want to be

and they mostly        have jobs

and they're not afraid          of briars or thorns

they certainly wish     to be under the law

but its just      not      in        their                cards.

you could hold

it has been said that you could hold

the breast and the breast   

could hold you

and then it just gets dirty from there on in.

o but soon

             soap is employed

and it prospers

            something to conjure

a little bit

and a little bit more

of soundness and sudden trickle.

the bible in black and gold

he was looking for that moment

understanding

he thought maybe he could find it in a book

spines on the shelves

off and of       clarity

for him everything was gas

until you spoke

he drew pictures

and you understood

warm flesh

belief

the sandman             the tooth fairy          

the grind-grit-clench

that pillow still holds soft impressions

on both sides

even when bathed in epic frost

heat is in the present

to fuck is in the future

you both knew the past       had not shut

changed

you can still and always      

eat bugs and make babies

the bible in black and gold

departing streetwise spectacles

corralling your big frontier eyes

serpents drawing on the sandy shores

and that's no fools joke

and i know rottenly

and i know decay able

and i know what if

why not

what ever

mostly peaked

a main-line  crown

to your verticals

inflicting a convex command

of our horizons

friction flaked bars encouraging

a firm  grasping

tightened       warmth   sliding        up

and down

hooked on a fiction

stunning arrivals

the scenic overlook

of melting membranes

            and you were fostering flesh

arresting my absence

stones clustering

stones clustering around the beaked and feathered gasket

and then a flow of darkness

which in it's self is a movement

ravishing and unlimited

an inward illusion

imprisoned in a rock

bridled to a gullet

entombed in an ingot

of gold                         stamped

"red and black is back"

o the one                     

they say          don’t say        want to say

deeply hidden

locked away   swollen           stuffed

filled               to feel a kiss

that truly felt kissed

never even knowing the way

measures and distances and regions

to explore

this song

driven

harshly--- rare

and warm.

a sweet purple tension

and black like surface.

not to the core

or even close

like threads of a broken down cloak

        a cloak of invisibility

with  hands

  so designed                like science

            and stars

   and coming through and over

silent              

until its time

not to be.