Eyewitness to the Truth ...
> > > > > Allahu Akbar. > > > > > I can't tell my secrets. > I have no key to that door. > Something keeps me joyful, > but i can't say what! > > > Tonight a singing competition! > Jupiter! the Moon! and Myself! > the friends I've been looking for! > > > Tonight with wine being poured > and instruments singing among themselves, > one thing is forbidden - one thing: > sleep! > > > When longing is sharp > and the ruby color deep > we welcome your grief, > but don't bring Ambition > or Wanting > or sleepy Boredom. > > > Full moon. Quietly awake, > you look down from the corner of your roof > reminding us its not time > to sleep, or drink wine > > > Tonight we are getting love-messages > for their sake we must not go to sleep! > The fragrance of you hair spreading through the streets > makes the perfumers wonder at such competition! > > > Grapes under feet that crush them > turn whichever way they are turned. > You ask why I turn around you? > Not around you, I turn around myself! > > > Gone, inner and outer > no moon, no ground or sky > Don't hand me another glass of wine. > Pour it in my mouth. > I've lost the way to my mouth ... > > > Hunted, yet hunter > Without a job, yet constantly working > Do you want my head? Friend, > I make you a gift. > > > What is real is you and my love > for you. High in the air, unnoticed, > this reality rises into a dome. > I am the Capella! > > > I came and sat in front of you > as I would at an altar. > Every promise I made you before > I broke when I saw you. > > > Don't come to us without bringing music! > We celebrate with drum and flute > with wine not made from grapes, > in a place you cannot imagine. > > > Joyful for no reason, > I want to see beyond this existence. > You open your lips, laughing - > I think of a design for that opening. > > > As long as I can remember, I've wanted you. > I've made a monument of this loving. > I had a dream last night, but it's gone now. > All I know is I woke up like this again. > > > Drawn by your growing, > we gather like disheveled hair. > Even spirits come to bow, > WE WERE DEAD. NOW WE ARE BACK. > > > My turban, my robe, my head, those three > for less than a penny. > My self, my name, not to be mentioned - > less than nothing. > > > At night you come here secretly, > and I want the darkness not to end. > But Night says, LOOK, YOU'RE HOLDING THE SUN, > SO YOU'RE IN CHARGE OF DAYLIGHT! > > > The secret you told, tell again. > If you refuse, I'll start crying! > Then you'll say, SHHH, NOW LISTEN. > I'LL SAY IT OVER. > > > You were alone, I got you to sing. > You were quiet, I made you tell long stories. > No one knew who you were, > But they do now. > > > I have lived on the lip > of insanity, wanting to know reasons, > knocking on a door. It opens. > I've been knocking on the inside! > > > There's no love in me without your being, > no breath without that. I once thought > I could give up this longing, then thought again. > BUT I COULDN'T CONTINUE BEING HUMAN. > > > We are the Night Ocean filled > with glints of light. We are the space > between the fish and the Moon > while we sit here together. > > > Sometimes afraid of reunion, sometimes > of separation: You and I, so fond of the notion > of a YOU and an I, should live > as though we had never heard those pronouns. > > > Two strong impulses: One > to drink long and deep; > the other, > not to sober up too soon. > > > The wine we really drink is our own blood. > Our bodies ferment in these barrels. > We give up everything for a glass of this. > We give our minds for a sip. > > > Wine to intensify love, > fire to consume, we bring these, > not like images from a dream reality, > but as an actual night to live through until dawn. > > > In complete control, pretending control > with dignified authority, we are charlatans. > Or maybe just a goat's hair brush in a painter's hand. > We have no idea what we are. > > > We donate a cloak to the man who does the washing. > We feel proud of our generosity. > We stare at the infinite, suffering, ocean. > We fall in. > > > You are cold, but you expect kindness. > What you do comes back in the same form. > God is compassionate, but if you plant barley, > don't expect to harvest wheat. > > > Wandering the high empty plain > for some indication you've been here > I find an abandoned body > a detached head. > > > Wine and stout, > one very old and the other new. > We will never have had enough. > Not being here and being completely here, > the mixture is not bitter. > It's the taste we are. > > > Lying back in this presence, > no longer able to eat or drink, > I float freely > like a corpse in the ocean. > > > Don't give me back to my old companions. > No friend but you. Inside you > I rest from wanting. Don't let me > be that selfishness again. > > > You reach out wanting the moon with your eyes, > and Venus. Build a place to live > with those dimensions. A shelter can be > knocked down with one kick, > go ahead and knock it down. > > > Sometimes visible, sometimes not, sometimes > devout Christians, sometimes staunchly Jewish, > Until our inner love fits inside everyone, > all we can do is take daily these different shapes! > > > My work is to carry this love > as comfort for those who long for you, > to go everywhere you've walked, > and gaze at the pressed-down dirt. > > > > > Allahu Akbar! ...
Get your own Free Home Page