You don’t deserve me if you are not willing to feel me
If you are not willing to be taken over
If you are not willing to be stabbed in
The heart and set on fire
I don’t know much
I’m just a boy, really
A boy who has had love in my mouth
That’s what I know
The scent of sweat,
Fury of passion
Clashing and rubbing and fusion of flesh
The letting go
And I’ll bet in that I know
The first and the last lessons
The hot pouring of liquids
Semen, tears, honey
More pain than money can buy but I
Bet in my bed are also balms and medications
Lotions, salves to heal everything



Now

When I’m with my lover
You have to know we work miracles
Peter and Paul only got a sword and a cross
Me and my lover can cross borders with a song
And a dance
And a strong drink
Cannot set you on fire the way me and my lover
Me and my more than brother
My mother
My sister
My friend
Can do.

Can do, can do

I know that
If you are not willing to be set on fire
If you do not wish for the sati
Long for the dance on the burning ground
Love has not found you.

not in bibles but in bed
and not in preaching
but reaching toward each other
and this is wisdom
to know with the stiffness
and the thrill withing
that like all loves
all spells
all blazing blazes
this:
the love of God is best
communicated over tongues,
mouth to blood red mouth

a word is a curious thing
like a lance it stings and opens up
the old wound
like an angel it thrust open the door
of the tomb
like a Christ it cries
lazarus come out
and languorous i drifted about
into despair until you placed
pen in my hand
and in a rose white light
came your command: write
and everything is still wrong
that ever was
and whoever starved before i typed,
he still is starving
i can't say any poem saved the world,
or you or you but view the task
of art as, maybe, learning to feed
and fend for yourself

I believe the Word of God is the very nature and power of God. For some this is represented in a book, but only represented. To those who embrace Jesus, the Word of God is Jesus himself. Be it the Bible, the Qu'ran, the Torah or the Granth, it is not the Word of God until it is read and inhabited. Therefore no one can say they know the mind of God having read the Word of God. One can only say he knows, and that only dimly, that which God has spoken into his mind, in his wrestling with his scriptures.

I believe that in the beginning was the Word, and all was made by this Word. I believe this Word is the Light that shines in the darkness that no man comprehends and I believe it was born, in time, in the world, and is born many times and will be born many times again, and must be born in ourselves. I call this Word, and this eternal light from which all of us come and to which we will all return, the Christ who appears to all men in the condition by which they may receive him. To me this is Jesus though to others it is Krishna, Vishnu, Torah, Qur'an, and many other revelations of which I cannot say.

What are the sacraments? So far as I know. If I am a Christian I am my own sort. I have no interest right now in anyone else's church. I am interested in everyone's revelation of Jesus, but those are few and far between these days, so let me talk of my revelation, of what I believe.

I believe that union is a sacrament, whether it is between a man and a woman or a woman and a woman, or a man and a man, or a man and many women. Friendship is union too. Who can look into the union between two or several people? I believe in celestial bonds between two and many souls that have nothing to do with any church or an civic government. I believe only the people in the union know how sacred it is. As to eternal unions, I cannot say.

I believe that sex is a sacrament, that lovemaking is a sacrament, just like communion to a Catholic. In making love no one is a stranger, and all defenses are lain down. I know that in touching lovers have touched and been touched by Christ in the flesh. Sexual expression is the descent of the Holy Spirit, the speaking in tongues. In the moment of love, the lover is none other than God.

I believe in the sacrament of ordination. I believe Heaven calls some to walk close to God, some to be healers and prophets, shamans and priests, seers and men of magic. This cannot be imposed by any institution, but by Heaven.

Beyond that I will not say anything more.

so
come sit beside me in the holy dark,
and let me whisper words of poetry
to your heart...
in these burnt houses

for one half moment i entered the eternal
and every single thing fell from me
unclench the fist
release the scepter of my small impoverished
kingdom
and in that one moment of simplicity
was eternity
and in eternity was perfect love
and utter trust

before you, having forgotten you
having let you disperse and turn to dust
every action was done in fear
my mouth tasted like trembling
after you
my mouth was full of love
after your kiss i know you hold all things
after your kiss i need know the one thing
the one thing of your arm
your other arm
your legs, your limbs
your mouth, your heart
your breath
and the one thing is you
and the one lesson
is love

t h e w e d d i n g v e i l

you brought me here that i might love you
and not that i should please myself
but that you should please me
and i would delight in your light
until this moment i knew that
if i walked, dusty footed to calvary,
proof of a love i had not felt,
then after they peeled me from a weary cross
and well after this weary life
you would reward me
not with the sight of love
but with the love

but the love is now
now the possession, and from the corner
of my eye the procession of torch bearers
and sweet singers
water lingers in the bottom of baptism jars
before its transformed to sweet and heady wine
and this is the time of song and sense,
desire deep as well, water washing out all hells
that fired every mind, burnt every foot that
traveled on this road to the wedding
you should have called you kiss a chuppah,
you should have called your arms a sukkah
descending, burning with seraph fire,
lift the veil

m a t t h e w

your cock
was crook'd
a hook of flesh that
hooked me to you, gently
and drew me to you
and you in me
over and over again
on a winter day under yellow-white
light
and all your skin, strawberry and cream colored
the black hairs dusting your body
the cleft of that ass
perfect in my sight
the perfect tip of your nose
the cherry of your lips
the scent of your hair
all in that bed
that day
was my delight

the wedding feast of the lamb has begun
or so i have been told
i wore no white dress to it
for he had ravised me long before
in the river jordan
and marching to that chuppah i was already
pregnant with joy
sleepy here
and half weak from recently waking-
why can't i waken-
i am still haunted by jealous bogeys
and still the devil tempts me
and still i want to be healed
of i and me, and everything that damns
me like a flood
if, on this night
at this feast
at this wedding table
ghostly, black and greyened i remember
vague i felt that
joy
why can't i feel that joy again?
i am able to lay with you once again
will you give me that trembling
opening,
spilling
in which all of me pours out
once water
now drunken wine?

c a n a

this is not the beginning of the end,
but rather end of all endings
the beginning of all beginnings
the winning of everything lost which
we were told, in faith, is always found again
every soul
is found again
all love lost
is found again
all chains bound are broken
all deficits compensated
all hungers, all thirst sated
amidst six jugs of water and the mother
of God
even every lost sock
every strayed thing
since we strayed from Eden
is found even now in Galilee
that water, should become living water
should become wine, to become blood
and become body, and flesh, and my eternal
body joined to yours
that our tears,
poured out for a thousand days in darkest dungeons
in minds for years beaten and pillaged by dread,
by disappointment,
that our sweat, secreted from bodies demoned by panic
must become living water
that is the inevitable miracle of this wedding day

God is
a beautiful boy kissing me on the mouth
hard and wet
and hardly am i in his rapture one moment before
i am naked before him
and i adore him when the love that is service
is this deep love, not a moral love
not a this and a that, and thou shalt not
not some damned satisfaction
in how wonderful i am
but the wonder of your wonder
the delight in your infinite and eternal body
the holiness of the wholeness of your
limbs stretching east, west, north,
twisting around me
the love of God
is his perfect, ancient body,
just born, baby fresh and damp with
God sweat penioning me
jacob wrestled angel me,
all his life his sweat came from his striving;
i am sick of wrestling
and you are not the enemy
call me
lover, and i will call you the same

d e s e r t

the temptation is not
gold or coins or women
or men
or men
or songs
it is not so glamourous as all that
the true glamour came under the waters,
with your kiss



under the covers with your baptism
honey and locust and love were there
penitence and tears and camel hair
and you loved me
and i loved you, and that was all we
knew
the temptation
is when my view of the jordan fades
far out, here in the desert
awake and startled in the desert
of lust and longings, frights and fears
jackals and lilliths
whispering, lisping, that it was never true,
the voice, the lover who came to you
and called you beloved
the whirlpool, the sandstorm
after the gentle blessing
but you are still calling me: loved one
still telling me that, with a word,
you have given me the power to tell them:
silence

b a p t i s m II

and passing and passing over the desert
without comment,spilling on concrete
tripping on cement and glue to you
to the edge of these waters
don't you know, out of the corner of my eye
i saw them, wayward sons and daughters of the same
mother
and the father
we followed each other though up until now
we thought we were alone
under the water
for this brief moment
for this ancient hour
when we are home
penioned under the mystery of you
penetrated by you, and penetrating
loved in the bedroom of you
made love to on the plush sofa of you
every single thing is all right
your flesh and your blood against mine
the contours of holy body say, all is well
all things shall be well
all things shall be...
you
under the water
under you
in you
on you
i relax
this baptism is the new creation
barely, barely, understood
is the hot, fluid, climax

d o v e

here
under the water we are
still swimming in the mystery
of your delight
haggard we traveled now we are
renewed in being called beloved
beloved is what gurgles in the water
spilled out on us, in the waves that
swirl about us
this is what we were returning to
this is why the sky opened up
it was to give birth
it was to make a door
it was to end the long war we've been
waging against ourselves and that
all the bitter words we've tasted
would be wasted in the sweetness of
the waters and their word
the word is love

b a p t i s m

say it as a rememberance
and not as excuse
that you are human, made of dust
and slow, moving to glory
day by day
and all in surprise were you caught by
the voice
you knew not
we knew not what to expect
when we dipped down in the water
all we knew was that we were running
all we knew was we were walking heavy footed
from the wreck
from all the burnt houses,
all we knew was that long before any prophet said
repent
or any priest spake of a day at hand
all of our days were dried up and numbered
we were dried up and humbled when we didn't even
know what the word meant
and staggering, burnt and bloodied
we headed to the water for a healing
well
who the hell expected the cracking of the sky?
we half hoped our mother in the water would
receive us
and you, i know, forgot your father in heaven
so behold the surprise in your eyes
and mine
dancing and dazzled at the declaration
you are mine, and beloved, and in this love
i am pleased
he is pleased
she is pleased
you and me, let us be pleased
for just a moment before we leave this water
let us dwell in this pleasure
that made the world, and that we traveled the world
chasing
in bottles and glasses, from bed to bed, in pleasing
the infinite, abyss of the black hole of our
imagined selves

j o r d a n

when i stepped into the water
and into the oil
and into the salt and water and oil
when the silver ewer poured the mother of
the waters over my head
the truth is i had no idea what i was walking
into
and i still don't
repentance is turning around to where you came
going back to the start of the road
and not taking the same
path
and so said John, and so said you
that long ago, before my mother was born
before my face was formed
in a place of one man clapping
i came out of light
indescribable joy and brightness
and i can just barely remember this
but not enough for repentance to filled with amnesia
baptism is...
repentance is...
starting at a place of i know not what
after all the what's i've always known have turned
out to be the wrong ones
repentance is a hairy man
dressed in skins calling me a lamb
and the sky cracking open, the old days done,
the terrible voice crying:
My beloved son
though i am quite sure i am your daughter

i am amazed
i am beyond belief
i am in something like
miracle,
unable to believe my
blessing
i just cannot get over
or get through
the truth that i fucked you
all through the night
you rode me
or i rode you

WHY DO MEN STRAY?


and why do men stray?
they go the way of women and cats and dogs
and you should know everything strays
i stray, you stray
why do we stray?
because we are unhappy
and why stray?
blind and stupid you have lost your way
men stray because they are bored
men stray because they have been whored
out by the office and by the TV and by the world
and by their wives and tired of the war of the flesh
think this will make it better
men stray
because they want to fuck
or because their wives have fucked it up
or both
and more

e p i p h a n y

i would rather stay here in my own rage
shrunk by small needs and pickled by unfit desires
not ready for the fire cause only cold can
preserve the things i hold
childish, not childlike, unchanging
the formaldehyde fetus is not a child
is not the babe reborn
and you have warned the fire next time
and not the water,
but to be ready,
krishna like i must come back, three times
through water, fire, wind, then in your lightning-
and if in rebirth near the jordan, in this bedroom
i feel my burdens lightening
they were never mine
well, then despite reasonless reservations
and ignoring coward hesitations since you
chose to be human, then so will we
and in the making of that choice
there is epiphany

e p i p h a n y

frozen white, and icy breath brings to mind
the miracle of this season
underneath my icy heart, flesh sluggish beyond
reason, vampired by dread, its old roots rooting
deep in my head
robed in selfishness and sarcasm
at this frigid time in the black of night
as the brightest light the soul of God is scene
that bright star, rising on mercy wings makes out
of blue black icy winter spring
in the very middle of my worrying, across my barren desert
trot three kings, gifts now, offering, gold now
offering
gold, frankincense and myrhh,
perfect love and perfect trust proffering
flesh and body all unguarded
and if any should melt and melt till they become water
are reborn in water, fire, spirit
if any, should dissolve in tears and in shaking weeping
be reborn
if any
should at surrendering shit become the newborn king
this is epiphany

e p i p h a n y





all in gold and incense,narrated in a tale so old no one can remember it now
of course, these days, no one remembers further back than yesterday--
you did what i cannot, which is be human, and you did what i do not--which is
do it intentionally, you did it flawlessly in gold and frankincense in myrhh
and how funny that on this holy day, the prayers we say, the hymns,
are all about my skin

here is the child who makes everything i've reviled come into question, and on
this day i go from noisy criticism into quiet contemplation on the other side of
headaches, the beginning of jubilation
here is the child who laughs in ignorance of my sarcasm who says with a wah and not a word all of our pretense, to convince ourselves were were something more, the long war a human fights with human nature--is now ended.

do not be afraid, to not resist your nature. this is the feast of human nature, this is the night when all of nature is suffused with god, and he smells like gold and frankinsense. be ye, fragile flesh--always nattering, chattering words--clothed in
the word

the infant's wah, is the word

he is the word

and all the your words are the word, and your longing, and your hoping, and your living in the word
and they are all the Lord
he stands at the door and if any see
that is epiphany

r e v i s i o n

sometimes i am jesus and sometimes
i am mary, sometimes i am being born again,
the circumstances vary
i am the whored out one who traveled
through nights and nights unstable,
verging on explosion and exhaustion unable
to tell light from dark,
now here i am waiting to be a virgin again
always this is the stable
and i am becoming

having been startled by fire the first thing
i tested my skin for was signs of fear
the first degree, the second degree
and the third degree dread that burns to the tissue

-this takes years and years of soulgraft-

and i was surprised that i found none
have i grown? or is it that living on the edge
of a precipice is like walking on hot land
or living in cold air?

after awhile, after you've been there
the skin thickens

w h e n

when the sun shines through the window, through the bedsheets and itno my naked skin, i wake up palming the nightstand for fear the way i do for glasses and it's not there, or barely there. all my dread never did me one bit of good. dust and ashes over my head, the eternal silent scream

so i'll be baby jesus, gently sing from the holy psalter and that will send me back to sleep


when the lover touches your body in the bedroom by the candlelight, when he does it on the sheets that smell like cigarettes and sin,
but--most blessedly--of him,
and everything in you rises like jacob's ladder to his angelic heaven, and he comes in you like the holy ghost, in the moment of your overshadow
and you overhear the priests and parsons, impotent and jealous trying to cover you in shame

then you be sexy jesus rocked in magdalena's arms, and you be sexy jesus luring with his charms, calling fishermen from waters and fallen sinners to his arms


when you lay in bed, after the anxiety pills, waiting for the anxiousness to peel from you--damn, how it sticks--and you have used up all the tears in your eyes, lost your voice to sighs and the crack of the floor sets you jumping, when you are battered by believing, damn exhausted, just a bag of peace has costed more than you can afford, and lost in unbelief, illiterate with doubt you can't even spell the name of the lord

then there is resurrected jesus, narrow and squeezed in every crack, almost unpalpable at your back, infinitely small and ever wide.

you become jesus, you become thomas, place you long hand in his side

sometimes i am jesus and sometimes
i am mary, sometimes i am being born again,
the circumstances vary
i am the one whose passionate body, traveled
through nights and nights of yearning,
verging on explosion and exhaustion,
waiting to be made a virgin again
always this is the stable
and the unmagical table
and i am becoming

today
i am a little more hopeful a little more happy a little less fearful more certain that the birds of the air get their fill and so shall i

today i am a little more ready to let go of i and the log in my eye
and the speck and your eye, the nasty reply, all pretention

right now i am a little better settled, a touch more salty
a little bit horny, a little in love, more fucking faithful, and in love with
jesus, convinced of the magic of mother the earth

today, tonight, for this second, it is all in me, it all meets in
the fucked up, sighed out truth that i've been beaten and resurrected by
life and i am one scarcely healed up heart, a san andreas crack of faults
and fissures, old time contradictions and accusations, dicks and
fuckerations

waiting for...

my creation

blessing of brownness
and smoothness
quiet roundness of arms and ass
when you came to me
i'm still trembling
remembering you
inside me
and the shake and the shudder
of the bed,
you overhead, hair black, head in my hands-
you came, a little gift, full of love and lust,
carrying that magic bag, the sacred thing
in those faded jeans
stripping to reveal its humble power
and it's thick attention commanding,
demanding that i give
and so i gave, and gave
and wouldn't have it any other way
and would gladly have you in the circumference
of these thighs,
back in that brief, brown paradise
some day