Less Here

Like the clotted sky as it strains in its weight,
and loses itself in bits, as rain —
Like the grain by grain march of sand off the bar
as each rolls to the ocean floor—

Like the wood core of the log and the flame,
the embers that smolder through years of rings—

So are all my moments with you.

Last week when you brushed against my shoulder,
I think I lost at least a year, and
Two days ago, just talking, your voice grabbed me just so
—I forgot what listening to anyone else was, and

Then just last night again, I think I told a random joke, you laughed,
and I forgot everything I thought I needed to say.

I am always forgetting myself these days.

The minutes between our meetings pass as moments then hours
then days, the distance between us shrinks and swells like the tides
at the call of the moon, and my thoughts turn back to you like a
rabbit to a secret hole just before the fangs catch.

I can’t even imagine who I am anymore.

Let’s breathe me away like desperate divers on their last tank,
let’s set me alight like a midnight flare on the desert floor,
let’s rev me, race me, plunge me down the freeway until
fumes and speed and steel are all that’s left.

Hold me, please, until I’m
less here

Coronation For The Crimson Emperor

Good morning—good morning!—

My sunshine daydream

You, my love, this morning you

Were—there, next to me—

Blooming, bloomed! Out indeed

Between us—

Your pale skin and body

—quiet next to me in hum—

Blooming like a deep red rose

—this and you so sudden in the

Morning, in the dawn next to me!

You deeper still you, my

Cherry-blood mouthful

Red—you, my bold

Bolder man maroon

Deepest maroon

Red!—you!

Flicker fire fire

Engine red

Across me

In passion

Passing here

Between us,

Passion past

Across your skin—

You! Your body!

—so red—

The deepest of dawn—

And then here beside

You red you within you

With these perfect pools

Of such pale purple

That swell and the silence

Somehow that passes between

The silence and tender between

Us—I can finally see—

There, here in your deep red’s

Night night-est light night

I can see the how and the

Delicate of that blue of me…

You always seem to yearn

To be lost—consumed—

Within!—with my every

Touch softest touched with

My eyes—my glance

—Press’d deep and so

My eyes the pale of sky-blue

That—there within those of mine

—Twin skies, their glinted sighs—

You my ripe reddest man, love true

Pay in love back to me my gifted

Desire as blue within blue

Pay with that weight of your

Warm and red and smile and red

—and body and red—

—and so long years—and red!

Everytime I feel your rogue glance

And too your red candle candescent

So iron-hot Rogue red

R o y a l R e d Emperor

Here, in this quiet of morning

Please, come stay yet

To yet rule this the

Vast empires of my azure—

Oceans of love

Oceans of air

Oceans within with me—you

Emperor Red of Me Deepest Me

Deep Deeper Space,

Deeper Blue, Bluer

Blue so infinite in within you.

You, Whom I Saught

(for Daniel)

No matter where you are–

I still hear you when you

–dream–

You sing out so very far

Your voice so bright

–like a star–

and–we–are

All of our tomorrows

rushing up–

Every tomorrow:

spark, kindle, sparkle

BURN–I–

spark myself up

Just for you

Light my heart ablaze and

through every torched moment

I pray

to God

that you see it

that you feel me

burning beneath your bed

sintering under your feet.

Love–let my heartbeat

form a marriage pyer

for when you say “I might”

for when you might hope to hear me

“Do, I–do, I–love you do–“

Love, my every heartbeat

bears God’s name–BUT–

he has them on loan

–from you–

Can God make a heart he cannot win?

I can never be certain–except I know

already you–my Lord–hold the title

and the deed and the name and word.

Whatever contract or arrangement you

and God

may have found yourselves making

–beyond me–

God now would never dare

–I know! I dared him!–

to claim title to my soul or heart

–Iron Lord of my Soul–

Governor of my Person and

Priest of my manhood.

Lord of my Soul–

I, your Poet–

Me, a Priest of Nothing–

Beg–

Wait still–

for you, My Lord–

to finally begin–

to make us–

to make me your–

   Legend.

Tachyon Violet (for Daniel)

The thing about a poem–
It travels forward backward–
The deeper you press in,
The more sense that first
–line–
Read a little while back–
Becomes defined to you–
Like a highway sign in reverse.

It purifies the colors: bright spectre!
And the mind and soul of sunlight,
Hidden, awash in sol-light, becomes
Violet violet blue
It makes all the details
Makes them real–

Tachyon definition
as the mind sees more of detail
The more it takes in
at the future’s
soak-in point--to right now.

And there you are.

Somehow, you flip-foward
time
and beauty
and me
As I walk next to you.
You, with the fear of a Local God
–quiet and intense at the prospect
of being given name.

And there and then suddenly I realize
I have
Always been right

–my whole life–
–about THIS:

Sometime ago God
–shattered–

from one being into
countless within formless

and God, speaking his own name
in his own tongue
is how he begins a prayer to himself
a prayer that before it ends,
it mentions YOU.

It all began during a big, distant bang
And will eventually fling apart too far
to see one galaxy from the next,

but, Daniel, may love–
how are YOU today?

Daniel, Let Me Hold You Now

All the Pink Floyd pigs on the wing fled long ago
–with their Les Paul angles–

And God was long dead by the time
Jesus molested Nietzsche And Freud–

What Prophet Muhammed really said about love and men
was lost eons ago in an Alexandria library fire–

But Daniel, let me hold you now.

It will be 100 years until manned spaceships
travel Voyager-like, past our solar system;

in 200 years Salt Lake City finally sends a probe
to now-barren Kolob–God’s home planet;

at least 5000 years must pass before we find
we beat Vulcans to the first warp drive;

But Daniel, let me hold you now.

You fit perfect when I hold my right arm out
to hold you to me,

And I’d march across all of Mission Valley once again
to share a bedroom with you one more night.

I miss teasing you by calling you “my lord” and I miss

how you once disappeared only to show two hours later

with a college boy who’s dick you made me suck.

You walked to pick up our pizza dinner I paid for

and never stole my drugs, money, or cellphone.

But Janis Joplin and I know about men like you;

Daniel–I never actually gave you that

little piece of my heart that you have still.