Esau's brew in A minor

A woman, I loved once
---loudly.
Even her soundless quiet
towers the smallest soul
In stalking feet

“Who stole the soul
From its home?” she sings in stormy colored
hurricane harmonies

Upstage
Six silver steel strings are dressed and waiting
Fresh sticks are ready for rhythm breaking
Skin caresses twinkling saxophones
punch drunk with electric breath
Tendriled keys with girlish pitches
fish for a tune to bait
aquarian hips set in sizzling shimmering swaybacks


out of the whole of mouth, however,
is a formless voice that gives no wind--

There is a woman I once loved.
the spirit of her softest kiss
levied oaks and willows
her wail unearths the dead from their respite
her tears call forth the moonlight that lie upon lakes
they spill into the streets
augmented by bruised blackness
mistaken for blues

she undresses my memory
until I am naked with the shame of
my past
in a minor
she gives me all of her
thick body
in wide blues and violets and greens and reds
riveting praise

I am a bevy of her
Speech
Subject to her verbed word
In human form
I am unchaste
From the unrequited stickiness
Between the man that i am that which I could be
She speaks in song, a roaring rubble---
Lengthening my longing with heavy lips
------snap---------
i am flattened
by the spiteful difference

There is a woman, whom I once loved,
whom
once loved me.


I left her
In a dim corner
The brightest light
In Philadelphia
The stillborn star of free will

I am unworthy, even of her hate.

Tonight, I will touch you
love you
hope you are her
pray that I am me
But in that still moment
when you call my name

I hear her,
love her
so loudly.

Consider it a blessing

Knowing that the chains are broken on my behalf
I lay to rest my battle,

Like wind to the wound
heavy memory irreligiously crushes the simplest wishes
Yet, I am encouraged

Today, I break bread with my past
Though it is thick, hard willed, and obdurate

big bodacious desire, buttered hopes I offer for
Hard heeled words, hungry for higher ground

I lift my coldest hope to my lips, cup it in my hands and drink
Knowing the chains are broken on my behalf

Today I break bread with my past
With an opulent, full bodied faith,
A generous hope

A faultless love
That feeds the soul that which the body cannot

the five finger discount (a gigan)

You too, can create a gigan. The Gigan is created and named by Ruth Ellen Kocher
(http://aboutaword.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_aboutaword_archive.html)
after one of her favorite godzilla movie-monsters.

The form consist of 16 lines in following order:

couplet (2-line stanza)

tercet (3-line stanza)

couplet

couplet

couplet

tercet

couplet

The 1st and the 11th line are the same.
The 6th and 12th line are the same.

be careful. After you read mine you will see what i mean...



****
peace on earth
whipped like wind

against a burning fist full of five finger discounts
a gritty smile plays coyly against empty eyes
he's all stomach

the booty was sparsely won
but opulently gained

skipping over his own heart
he imagines babygirl's ears ringing in the new year

legs hoisted up over his narrow back
peace on earth

the booty was sparsely won
but feverishly dreamt--and fully his
he smiled at the act, effortless as his execution

until his sweet prize
with the force of all five fingers, discounted him.

the silent opus

the curl of the cup
against the lip
red
as the rice
from unbecoming
shades

"...as caustically haunting as red on china", critics say…

one, two, four beats

it is
as is
the light
of the world
punctuated by darkness
her moonlit moan slides
rashly
down her throat
pungent and piercing

if she were in her own
the songs would come
unrestained by the
wanderlust white
of the milk
as it pours
soundlessly on sable skin
rich with spite

unforgivingly bright
against the black faced stage

if she were in her own
her opus would be mundanely beautiful


she'd refrain from her refrain
her genius her own undoing

instead she's
tasting life
raw and hot
from
the foreshadowing

eating sheer will
until
there is no room
for the distended dissatisfaction

her,
un,
be
come - ing
un be com ing
unbecoming
as they said
she
would

the last note lingers
unmolested
it
rips the veil of their "ohh's"
in a rapidly rising troubled resonance
it tolls;
absence waters their
reddened ears

still
lost in the light
she
never hears

hope

warm weathered
still standing

I touch a moving universe
it sticks to my fingers
luminous and translucent

Like silk, it pulls.

Where would I be without
my questions
soaring high over a milky bay?
the light from
far away stars

beautiful
and rash

nursing my sorrows

forever waiting?

the fish fry: a cautionary tale

why? because

she smokes;
even against better judgment
eats grits with butter, despite the cholesterol

and she’s hungry. Add to that

a philandering good-for-nothing
two bit desire
two parts liquid longing
allowed to boil and billow
over open barrel blues
served raw with sizzling peaches
sans
-- the pits

her saving grace-
wedding vows broken
before the stone faced china
a man who loved the idea of her,
like fat free buttermilk

it's the teeth. they said
gottabetheteeth.
opulent, square, they rest in the beveled
corners of brown lips
dripping with diamonds
that make even mighty panties
drop mighty
quickly

frying up rendezvous
two by two; over easy
ma'am, he says breathily
i'll take mine to go

her frizzy curls suck the humidity like a pipe
sticking to her neck like skin
she's archetypical
tar black and nappy headed
on saturday nites the only kitchen
she's fingering
is the pulse of the stolen moment
on the cusp of venus touch, moon rising
hearing her heart
pirouette in his obsidian stomach

a slip of his hand bows to her greatness
under a wind blown sheer dress
she's been told not to soil

they crushintolove

not
easy on the eggshells
eyes open
eating hot id, greedily, and bare handed

that southern style
sweet meat
that flakes
like fish
when hot

he offers himself
stirring her soulfully
golden glass bubbles
blow from
the cast iron
so quickly

they never saw the trigger

be as it may

be as it may then
that love isn't a begger
it's a borrower

one thing is needed

In Memory of Officer Kaliah Harper



inspiration passages....
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed." Luke 10:38-41

2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. 3 And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. 4 God saw that the light was good, and He separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light "day," and the darkness he called "night." And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.


I sense your name
Upon the shadows

You beckon to me with full voice
Speak to me with a clear mind

The vine is empty,
But the soul is full.

I sense your name upon the shadows
your awkward dream cushions me
chariots of your speech
deliver me from my moment

Your voice burns my mind
it sears; it kisses my charred lips
the nape of the dawn
dissolves my mourning ashes
with the cool dew of your might

You hover above my destiny
linger in every mourner
The heaviness of your hope
Heralds even ears to cry

I sense your name upon the shadows
The gleaned price
Because he who lives, dies
And he who dies, lives

All that a man might do means
Nothing
at the final hour
Without your breath billowing over the darkness
Beckoning our arrival
We mistake as life

I sense your name upon the shadows

And
Matchless
Holy
Mighty
Excellent


Is Thy name.