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Dave Bonta
I am in all my books
and I am the same as the ague
knocking at my flesh
I am every interrupted part
coming at night to join
only the flesh
that embassy
from a world with no future
only such a simple window
could keep secret the very story
we dissect
Sharpening my knife,
I plunge it
into the flesh of time
chopping
chopping
chopping
chopping
chopping
me, in thin, fine slices...
Yea! Yea! HAVE I FORGOTTEN BEAUTY?
The five petalled white cherry blossom
tinged with pink -- and the yellow stamen?
NAY:
I have become engrossed
with thy perfect body!
The length of your legs.
The solidity of your thighs.
The brightness of your eyes.
Your fingers. Hands.
BIG SIMPLE IDEAS
in
the
BOOK OF FLESH.
I'm a scholar.
Faint scent of pussywillows
What else could you possibly offer me
But your very flesh?
Or do you wish I would dwell in the ruins of your soul,
To take refuge there, like a Barbarian
From the siege of Rome’s legions?
Fifty years, a feast of shattered bulbs
Among festoons of crimson crepe paper
Faded by time
Like debris strewn about the shore.
What else could you give to the one who had been your master
but your very flesh?
This, no matter how much you always
Denied me not the greetings
Of those who open their lives to summer,
But the farewell of hostile winter.
May God take his holiday,
The woes of flesh are naught
To one who knows
The agony of soul!
'Twere but the thud of wind and rain
Upon the roof.
The woes of flesh are naught
To one who knows!
When you poured your love
Like molten flame
Into the throbbing mold
Of her pulsing veins
Leaving her blood a river of fire
And her arteries channels of light,
I hated you ...
Hated with that primal hate
That has its wells
In the flesh of me
And the flesh of you
And the flesh of her
I hated you--
Hated with envy
Your mastery of her being ...
With one fleshy gesture
You have freed me--
In opening wide the doors
Of flesh
You have freed me
Of the binding leash.
I have climbed the heights
Of white disaster
My body screaming
In the silver crash of passion ...
Before you gave yourself
To him
I had chained myself
For you.
But when at last
You lowered your proud flag
In surrender complete
I LOOK at the swaling sunset
And wish I could go alsoThrough the red doors beyond the black-purple bar.
I wish that I could goThrough the red doors where I could put off
My shame like shoes in the porch,
My pain like garments,
And leave my flesh discarded lying
Like luggage of some departed traveller
Gone one knows not where.
Then I would turn round,And seeing my cast-off body lying like lumber,
I would laugh with joy.
Their shadow dims the sunshine of our day,
As they go lumbering across the sky,
Squawking in joy of feeling safe on high,
Beating their heavy wings of owlish gray.
They scare the singing birds of earth away
As, greed-impelled, they circle threateningly,
Watching the toilers with malignant eye,
From their exclusive haven--birds of prey.
They swoop down for the spoil in certain might,
And fasten in our bleeding flesh their claws.
They beat us to surrender weak with fright,
And tugging and tearing without let or pause,
They flap their hideous wings in grim delight,
And stuff our gory hearts into their maws.