Witness whiteness

Who is watching?

I feel-

Enough.
It was
-not needed
              any more
Love
         you sooo much
rains    candy,
Sugar name drop not

Justify
Too

it is complicated,
intricate, entanglement-
through
close contact-
intertwined
and inevitable.

You see. You do.
You are-I am too.

Kiss me
Aloud
if you can

in this tension
of Presently,

Let me
             land-

(softly) Held,
holding

your gazing heart
that embers
                    Into

Ashen skin
before

All of This
living in sin
bore witness
To.

Finally,
just

what do you wish
to be called?


Painting by Franz Dvorak, c. 1927 in [Public domain].

Lip locked

“ Matter turns out to have no other substance than spirit itself…In a pure monism it would make no real difference whether we called the one reality God or Nature, mind or matter, water or fire or will, since in any case this substance must be the seat and source of every kind of distant existence…The great stream of “life” is said to run through matter…” -Previously Unpublished Essays of George Santayana, John and Shirley Locks (1969)

We all collide in photonic pride,

mix and co-mingle our palettes

to each his own.

Humanity.

Expressing our cannibal cravings 

in a hungry kiss

as an arc of attraction

thru and through exchange

of energies

as Desire.

Fruits of our Labors.

Mind molds matter  

more perceptibly erected

as spiritual sculpture; 

foundations for 

the body in clay.

Is symbiosis the essence of 

phenomenal bliss, sweet

soul mates in super symmetry?

Dualism fusing with monism,

electromagnetic discharge 

as feedback static

grounded on belief

in single resolution

holographic by belief?

Negative. 

I feel the friction 

in the denial of not knowing

the all that all do

under clear conviction

that nothing is known, certainly,

except what we don't know

Absolutely

nobody knows as much as he doesn't

in real time, 

or (f)actually.

Embrace the wind,

a kiss blown, a fallen star, 

a swollen heart or dry eye

moves nothing but air.

And there we stand, firm-

trying to get through

mind over matter.

“I might sustain the theme indefinitely that you nor I nor anybody knows as much as he doesn’t know. And that isn’t all: there is nothing anybody knows, however absolutely, that isn’t more or less vitiated as a fact by what he doesn’t know.” -Robert Frost

Painting by Edvard Munch, "The Kiss" (1897) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

My lips are sealed

Because I liked to kiss the boys,
you used to say.
And from what he saw,
that sounds true.
Lack of will power, I say
don't deny when desire strikes.
No, they did not push my button,
or make it near my neck.
And it wouldn't matter who
happened to be throwing their meat
at me, pelvis, chest, seeking breasts.
Hot syrup breath and drizzling skin,
I'd be right there,
half naked myself, ripe peachy skin
swollen lips and wild half
closed black eyes, my body swinging
to feel itself touch outside.

This is how I know hypnotists are real,
and trances, a quarter a twenty due
to inflation, like the facts, you see.
Those musicians that are reckless
with their radio rape and power
over women, tossing bass under lusty lines
that speak to somewhere primitive.
Women respond in a certain throbbing way
under disco lights cast in dank dungeons.
A charmer and his pungi,
the venom has been imbibed.

Because I like to kiss the boys, he said
which may be true but sounds like conceit
when I profess it was they who kissed me
first. But he wouldn't dance
(too left deceit)
so he could never completely see
if I kissed them back
and I wish
I never did.





Image By UPI (eBay) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Rock Hudson & Julie Andrews 1968 film, Darling Lily.