Song of Soul Mates

I. ATLANTIS

When did first our dreams intersect so smoothly,
And did our minds sew that web?
As the sea watched that once cry stalled-blue isle
Did we not detect a light, casual,
As I strolled by the temple of suchness,
And you in wisdom's folly peered inside the orbs
Which bore assembly languaged Flowers
Whose pedaled instructions fell lazily
In endless refractions,
of the trillion-folded blades
That burst from the armored breasts of the random gods?
Their chariot spokes still glisten, my love
In the unseen windows of sunset, of ocean, and Atlantis.
They sigh, sigh, and sigh again, waiting for a perfect love,
A champion transcendent
Of stick and dew,
And Oxnard sky.
A Whirl-wind of two hearts,
The two soul worlds,
Of man-Women scattered across the steel maps of universes...
Once we curled fingers to light the touch of tips,
the white-hot and Fiery collision
Of sex and fusion melting opposites
Into the still and full zero
Of all.



II. EYGPT

If that was not first time,
Calculated by mind unfolding mind
Then was not the wind curiously hot on your sandy black hair,
As you fled in diamonds and body
to the graves of the Nile’s triangles.
We dreamt the knots that bound the pyramids, my love,
that pulled forth our marriages of sword and pharaoh’s blood.
Did not I sleep with goddess's whose fingers fired
And pushed, and heaved,
The billion marbled hills of Isis & Ra
Strung as taunt triangles
To bind fast the globe's tremor
A stark simple conduit of pure power
A memory of worlds where pyramids
Floated in the red of sunset,
Above Edens, in feathered spaces
Knowledged as harps of all the chords
Of all the worlds sung
And folded back on each other
Set in eternal progression forged and cut,
For the sphinx’s passion,
Played
As if it was me and you,
Rolling a love of all the Eastern wine's,
The African sands and grasslands,
That marked the steamy creases against our robes
Our jeweled red eyes,
Kissed by extinction itself...
When we were we,
My love
And other forever.



III. JAPAN

And as earth contracted,
Back into the solid weakness,
Simple in the moist ooze of animal reasons,
As the ancients left on ships of silk,
And the darker shadows stole their metal flowers,
For the patterned lands of Barbary
Did not we sit among cherry-blossomed winds,
Sure in our navels of the Samurai
and the tea-ceremony?
The brave Buddha smiled of California, my love
And lifted only a finger
Sending us off, off,
Off into golden soft spheres of light,
That filled the temples of our zazen,
Our kisses, your lust for my brothers,
Mine for the whores of ancient Japan,
All dissolving in morning silky sheets.
Our eyes remembered,
We filled Kyoto,
Her ancient cedar floors with our musk,
And our awareness
Child and steel
Vibratory,
Longing to span all custom,
Longing amidst the disciplined tree's,
Longing until the temple Bell struck,
And let us swim her sharpest moment
Forever upstream
Beyond itself
Twice
Again!



IV. OXNARD

And now I in flesh and food and night,
Trapped in the womb of this billion-souled grayed planet,
Remember our final collision,
As I ran aside the Aphrodite’s surf of Oxnard,
And again gazed into the metallic patterns
Of Navy and computer and our coincidences
Meeting again to only slash in this arena,
All lineages with and against us, my love,
All of us falling down into time's entropic fatigue
Again we tracked each other,
Dumb and nothing
Like rabbits
Curled up over the
Jewels of our past,
The times when woman and man
Melted armored wings
In the blinding unity,
That whirls now before our eyes,
The once and will to be's,
And again, like a dancer,
Has grabbed us
Cheerleader and Marxist
Aside and at attention once more,
Hands folded
Awkwardly in the furnace
Of the Avatar's sharp white-hot folly.
He looked past us, my love,
Past loss and gain tumbling down, down,
Down, when you slept and fucked with broken men,
And I filled the frightened patterns of women.
We hated this bonding I now see
You screamed deep inside against the pain of man.
1 ran to hatred's spongy pools in fear of vast womanhood,
Close as we clawed for each other's death spot
As we have done,
As we have named our moments, only, only,
Only to be weaker than Rome's rotting apple.
We, my love, are killing for sleep,
Slumber, separation's safety;
Us against the Yuga's of recollection,
Our sellouts have chosen,
We struggle to forget
That time, my love,
When we stumbled upon
The vacuumed vase
Of all origins
And found
Its mighty whims,
Still between our eyes.