Nocturne in Jung Minor (NaPoWriMo Day 17 – Nocturne)

17758348_675430509310754_7405624817070006854_o

The moon falls in tangled sheets
I’m trapped, wrapped
in threads of reverie
oh let me sleep… why can’t I sleep…
is it your mystery that yanks
all these tides in me
reflecting the light
that only reveals itself
under the cloak of midnight?

My mind twists another turn
down its labyrinth
and I’m in the Presidio
stretching the canvas of our bed
cathedral of trees
trail of your scent
greenest green, softest brown
brown and green
the petrichor – your dark forest song
Expanse of blue
it’s you, all you…
and I can’t tell where
sea ends and sky begins,
can only lie here
dreaming
again…
the splash of your eyes
the covenant of your mouth
your tumult of waves and clouds
your branches and leaves
reaching out
whirring
raining
breath
on my neck….
on my breasts…
that little death
on just the other side
of this golden gate
my bridge spans
the phantom touch
of your hands
where lavender fields bloom
striving to hide evidence
of any real life without you…
whispering their lavender worry to me
I reassure them, you see, because
I know the real is the imagined come true
and even here, and now, alone, I am with you.

Hello! I know it’s a full moon, though
I can’t see it in this fog that creeps along
I suspect it is shielding itself from me
like you do… Hello peeping Tom Moon!
Come to peer into my window again, have you?
You are shameless, but then so am I, so go ahead
Have a look then, burn me with your beams
I like your fat face and the way
you bathe me in your greedy eyes.

You come to me every night
as refracted light,
slipping through the slats in blinds,
all your colors
piercing the heavy lids that shield my sight
my cogs are a blur of whirring activity
processing, processing, processing…
You. Me. Us…
We share this place…
our yellow tigers crouched
ready to spring into crimson rivers
thrashing in a nile of seedy want
rubying our welted pelts
scarring our throats
with every withheld roar
fragrant with musk
unguented in this burst of ripe fruit
until desire drowns us both
in drips of hot wax
and snapped sinews
murder at the gallop
our data lost
our twilight embalmed
our moon eclipsed

The moon, the moon, why always the moon…
all this mad spiraling lunarity? Why is that?

One can no more prevent mind
from returning to idea than sea
from returning to shore.
In the case of the sailor
this is called a tide;
in the case of the guilty
it is called remorse.

Blood is 92% water, Muscles 75…
hearts feel the tug of every moonrise
the howlings full and bright, but only on one side…
dark in synchronous rotation
an oblivious orb
I”m inexplicably drawn to
gravity spinning me
…into zombie-like obeisance

Where are you in the daylight?

I know you’re always there in the sky…
night and day, day and night…
a flowerless stalk, a phantom kiss…
known but unseen… intangibly tangible…
like our minds… like the internet…
And here I am again… Bitten by bytes…

Forever cybered…

Feeding into the Hellmouth
of Leviathan’s cyberirreality…
drinking the bluelight…
whomping in waves we can’t swim in…
scanning lives like x-rays,
skimming through it all…
faces like blank pages…
gorging on all those assorted unrelated dreams…
socializing media…
fucking brains in jars…
we become walking talking spambots…
how can I love things I can’t touch? But here I am…
my rampaging bull cursed running down mazes,
bursting through china shops
my psyche in splinters
occupied in trying
to be the crackle in porcelain
to ply caresses from marble
to bleed blood from bronze
to feel the rain dripping from the trees
of your back garden through my window
to abduct your aliens
to tame the monsters in your head
to be the thing under your bed
the swallow up
the falling down
the cast and the die
the wheat and the chaff
the oxygen in your lungs
the hydrogen fusion of your sun
our metal absorption
your meditation
your imagination
your incantation
the buzz in your ear
the throat in your hum
the choice and the action
possessed but not a possession
making your dark conscious
tilted at the acute angle of angel
produced in the square root of want
my great mother, father, child
my never brother, always other
my trickster, hero, devil, god
my apocalypse, deluge, creation
my shadow of Bergson
my delusion, my divine spark
my demon, daimon, daemon

logo-napowrimo

Advertisements

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Mesmerising. Many great finds in there!

  2. holy moly! this blew me away lol!

  3. Ogden Fahey says:

    Another masterpiece! :D

  4. ccthinks says:

    You all are supersweet… this is in dire need of pruning which I will do eventually. Thank you so much for reading, enjoying, and sharing your thoughts with me. xoxo

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s