He pats
a slow beat
on canvas so tight
it could be a drum.
His brushing fingers
leaving invisible
lines in the natural oils
of her body,
barely clinging to existence.
Creation and destruction
in the valley of her lower back.
Posts Tagged ‘existence’
The Political Animal
Posted in Poetry, tagged aristotle, beats, body, brush, death, existence, life, man, painting, Woman on March 29, 2010| 6 Comments »
Why I Laughed
Posted in Poetry, tagged Creation, existence, physical reality, Woman on September 9, 2009| 6 Comments »
Inside her
I see endless
space
frightening enough
to make me
laugh. A miracle
on fire.
And in her face
is a path,
an abyss between
lips that
cross my wires
stopping me
from delivering messages.
Thin red lace
hugging her hips
and the quivering
confessions of
my agoraphobic
finger tips
as if playing
a guitar for the first
time. Variations
in the key of woman.
A flame in a vacuum
everything is inside,
drawn to her
like creation’s bang
rewinding
around the ball
of nothing
that consumes
a new born reality.
Veritas Ex Logos 