TRIBUTE OF NECTAR

sweet sister of blue morning's idleness
still lily-wreathed in veils of hopeful rainbow expectation
still wanting for the crucifixion pierce
	for the razor kiss of wicked thorns
	for the indulgent ecstasy of crimson roses
throw off your slave chains of denial
	your cobweb shackles of outlived inhibition
plunge with me into delirium!
fall from the waiting precipice
	into this fiery black eternity
	of whirling pain and pleasure!
wild shrieking descent
into this alchemy
of quicksilver bittersweet eruption

blazing suns are born in agonies of first sensation
fling themselves blindly howling from this womb of mother night
and dying stars with molten trails of phosphorescence
plummet to cosmic climax hiss of dissolution
tsunami seas of chaos darkness roil
rebirth
the wheel rolls the furrows of its course
gauged in pulsebeats neverending
blazing suns are born in agonies of first sensation

sweet sister of red morning's fever dream
open your stupor-blinded eyes
cast the coins from your lids
awaken!

savage is the cockcrow of perception
mists of blood dissolve
above the pox-scarred corpsehead leers
among the ebb-flow scent of bitter almond stars
shouting        unclean!        in syllables of resonating silence
and the birds of cobalt crystal shatter
	into a million jagged fragments
	lancets of exquisite torment
let's ride the ebon horse	down ghost currents of sobbing wind
		striking spark streams of firefly madness
		in our passage
fretwork pinnacles of iridescent metal oxide salt
blossom like fragile colonies of saprophitic beauty
at the silver whisper of a breath
crumble
into swirling clouds of prism dust
synapse-suggestions of      lemon rind     green strawberry     parsimmon
prickle the memories of tastebud spasm
echo in the threshold cellars of sensation

I shall lash you to the promontory altar
with rustling bonds of violet silk
the winds and sea shall drink your soul-kept secrets
blizzard eddies and scirocco shall caress your screaming flesh
	riptides of frozen brine shall slake you
		and seaweed garlands shall adorn you
feast of THE SERPENT'S poison fangs

			- t. Winter-Damon



A chapbook by t. Winter-Damon
is reviewed
here.

All rights to this poem belong to its author.

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