The thrill or because it feels good
Of the enticement,
To rapturous delight,
To filling the life well,
As ecstatic stasis
Of mind,
To couple with legs,
Supple surrounds,
The opening of,
Inner peace.
Accentuate,
In fluid motion,
Wave upon wave,
Flesh,
Skin,
Friction,
Bodies,
Multiply and diminish,
At touch,
Oh, holy touch,
Wash me clean,
I succumb,
To yours,
Mine,
Bliss,
The fires,
Of passion,
The enveloping,
Writhing,
Beat
Every crevice,
Every mound,
Suck,
Lick,
Like,
Taste,
……Shiver,
Lunar Witness
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-Initiate
Ode,
Blessed,
The falling star becomes.
As earthen tint;
A sacred scar to polar span,
Upon a circle of binding.
Fragmented mind,
Evoke new tongue,
To share in wicked way.
Infectious state,
Beseech the sky
For shard of ever true.
Melancholy;
Courses, devouring prey.
Few stand to weight the tide.
Collectively divided,
By space and time,
That serve boulders to sustain.
Heartbroken,
Contemplation sifts,
Through defiled sands.
Picking grain from grain,
To tell life or death,
Awaken son of man.
-Educate
Ode,
Blessed,
The molten core boils,
Spews hot ash into the sky
To taint the wellsprings,
Awash with dual purpose.
The eager eye,
Anticipates blindly,
Hidden blessings
To veiled temptation,
It watches, onerous turnings,
Provide a divided taskmaster.
A constant whip crack,
Preceding life and death.
Reverberates through the sky.
Allowing the joy of movement
And the knowledge of station,
Upon a sentient battle field.
An orb of birthing pains,
And unyielding transgression,
Stays its path.
Patiently drawing hypnotic spirals
Upon a barren parchment
Awaiting the son of man.
-Graduate
Ode,
Blessed,
The sleeper awakes.
Broken dreams to restless screams,
As self, develops self awareness.
The spark becomes unto illuminati.
The nomad turns,
Heads home, wandering complete,
Cyclical tale told from end to end,
Of the lost, march to be found,
Healed by the son of man,
Only then to one will be.
Dormant, original, collective,
Consciousness separated in the midst,
A singular instance,
Circles to itself.
Ouroboros' delight
Fertilized and born to its own entity.
From opposite ends,
One in the same,
The gardener, the shepherd,
In the eternal stand,
Hands locked,
Infinite watchers tend to their own,
…………….Born to lunar witness.
The Drifter
Remember,
The ebb and flow,
Kicking around,
The dust on the endless roads,
The shallow footprints,
Lost with the gentlest breeze.
Constant movement,
Erases boundaries.
The world becomes,
A contortionist;
The linking of countries,
Now distinguishable only through,
A booklet of border stamps,
Prefaced by a photo,
Lacking any resemblance,
To the paradigm shifts,
Still undergoing.
.
In this mind's eye,
A cryptex
Of innumerable combinations,
Change is,
The essence of sanity,
Where each turn,
Brings a new destination,
Providing closure,
To the last,
And opening,
A plethora,
Of possibility.
Freedom lives here,
It's hiding place,
Sought through life,
Is only found in living,
Accepting growth,
And loosing,
The grip,
On control,
Of the unpredictable,
Human condition,
By an emersion
Into its' environment.
Thus baptized,
To hush
The storms,
The seething,
Defiled memory,
To Shoot,
For the sun,
The stars,
To Ride through,
A broader universe,
And pierce
The deafening walls
Of context,
Through evolution,
Of thought,
We do not fear.
The mountains erode,
The forests decay,
Yet we rejoice and take part,
In the chaos,
Of this inevitable cycle,
And feel blessed
To be it's witness.
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Staring straight ahead,
A blank expression,
A discourse in self flagellation.
The victor,
Raises his hand,
Brings down,
A deathblow,
Upon himself.
Drunk,
Full,
Of malevolence and rage,
Wrath turned inward,
As prayers,
To satisfy self,
As much as god,
Are falsified,
A botox smile,
Not even persuading,
The fool,
That has it,
Plastered across his face.
In his quest,
For joy,
For release,
Tension,
Draining all energy,
Will not dissipate,
Instead will leave,
A soul in despair,
Tense from trying,
To find a way out.
A writhing dragon,
Would not fit,
Through the door anyway.
By Damon Ryan