And I long
for that ancient
astronomer's song;
I turn my telescope
inward,
beneath skin
and chest
and bone...
You shine
oh so brightly in there,
my dear!
Oh!
To kiss you in that place
when Van gogh painted
'Starry Starry Night'.
You know the place I mean:
That sacred place,
where paint-stained brush
it kisses the blank canvas
for the very first time.
But until
your tender fever burn &
eventual return;
the first bird of dawn,
its sweet song
will be all to keep me warm
come distant morning.
And, as I close my eyes,
maybe tonight
I'll be entertained by your company
(and sweet touch) -
In slumber.
For, since tasting
your lips
that (first) sweet time,
I now:
live in dream
and
dream in life.
(is this what it feels like to be a Pisces star?)
I relax (a little)
in comfort, knowing...
that even though
(from this earthbound window
& failing cornea)
I cannot see your star:
I sense (by intuition alone)
that you are out there...
Spinning!
Dancing!!
Shining!!!
Igniting the heavens
in a million shades of
purple, red & blue!
Beyond compare!! -
All the other stars in the night sky
pale (and quiver and sigh)
by your
wondrous
& unique beauty.
And
even though
I have a funny way of showing it
(in my shy & private way):
I am truly blessed
to have you here...
in my
slightly
expanding
universe. *
(c) Brent M Harpur, 2011.
* PS: (I make no apologies at this point for appearing the sentimental fool...)
"If the Sun and Moon should ever doubt/
They'd immediately go out."
(William Blake)
i.
Oh!
Precious night, she trembles!!
Star-fire
light my way.
If I'm not destined
to move inside her
heavenly skies tonight,
let me instead lie here
- close, yet far...
At her gentle-loud side.
Drink from fierce tide
& ragged constellation;
Sup from heavenly core,
leave her wanting
more.
Remember:
Tongue in bellybutton,
fingers in mouth,
lips nibbling ear,
warm breath on perfect back.
Let me
feast upon her shame,
replace it with
fiery-wet kisses & heart tremors;
Oh! Precious night,
she trembles!!
Goosebumps rise,
a perfect disguise:
Sun rise,
Sun set,
Sun rise!!
I can feel her heart beating
in her fingerprints.
Taste her DNA in the salty sweat
on her swan-like neck.
Catch a glimpse of heaven now
in her star-fire eyes.
Her touch ignites this blank canvas.
ii.
God, he has forsaken me -
or perhaps I him?
But maybe (through her) he has returned?
Her kisses awaken me,
like Lazarus.
Maybe he is offering this heathen
one last chance
(one last heavenly dance)...?
To see.
And to walk together,
hand in trembling hand;
skip, run, laugh, sing
& have a picnic
(feast on unending avocado & mango):
Here,
in Paradise's Garden.
Oh!
Precious night, she trembles!!
Star-fire
light my (her/our)
way.
(c) Brent M Harpur, October, 2011.
(This is not a poem. Merely words that I recently transcribed from the goosebumps/braille that rose on someone's perfect shoulders & upper back, while giving them a massage...)
"I'm an hour from arriving,
Three from where I rose to go -
And maybe two from where I'll find you,
Between the world and all I know."
(Joe Henry)
