SECTION NINE
  POETRY PAGE FOUR

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COLUMN FIFTY-TWO, OCTOBER 1, 2000
(Copyright 2000 Al Aronowitz)

LOCKED OUT

the night seemed so inviting
inky swirls of empty space
muddied soft and opalescent
against the black
like the memory of pearls  

and i wonder if i should linger
drown the surrealism
that haunts my empty bed
listen to the moan
           pant
              scream
that crowds my windowpanes
these sounds;
midnight's prisoners
that cut through,
escaping from the cold
chill of twilight into
my room, into my own hallowed
womb of tortured silence  

and i left them
saved soft lips for idealism
for niagara lovers
that push me into the falls
aching.... screaming
and i am hurtling through
the darkness
and i have lost my grip
on dreams and foolish intangible desires
and i have locked away
the pleasures of my body
for fear of falling  

and i am wondering
if i even know what that really means
i am lost in hope
childishly trying to smother
the taste of his tongue on my mind  ##  

* * *  

VODKA

it was the moon
i swear
that left me drunk
forlorn,
a vague prisoner
of time-worn dreams
and every incised touch
that sliced innocent flesh
fumbled
oppressive to my body
these: the stains of lips
searching blindly for mine
no passion
just raw lust
honeyed on vodka
and clove cigarettes
so i pushed
thrust hard into the night
barren and empty to my mouth
breathing hot flame
and desolation
burning my eyes
with foolish tears
so here i lie
on the cold stone benches near my street
near the origin of time
mourning the loss of delicate hours
precious moments of bliss
now wasted
all for the sake of idealism  

fuck virginity

fuck hope

fuck love  ##

* * *

WITCH DOCTOR

i conjure these images
the witch-doctor  

"I"

"I" construct:

HE

that fool that laps
at my tears
sucking drip-drop
shuddering words
that stumble from
my open mouth
and i am dancing barefoot
under the moonlight
Leda the golden-thighed lunatic
drenched in soft feathers
suckling the starlight  

and her parted lips
give way
a rubiate fleshed sigh---  

and the boys they tell me
"parting is such sweet..."  

Bliss  

and they move their lips
mouthing a vague kiss  

So let me strike!
let me rip
claw at the proud curling corners
of their mouths
let me bring blood
for they would draw mine.
they would tear my dreams
with one quick thrust.......  

they wouldn't even buy me dinner  ##

* * *

DELETED  

and I felt a rage
of slim ache
that placed its hands
pressing hard
from the inside
and it drove into me
ravenous
wrapping round my body
smothering my frame
in soft shuddering
motions  

and I am paler than grass
body bent
beneath a trembling
sea of night
that churned
a corpse set deep
with glittering stars
the blackness that stretched
a sooty sky
through my windows  

I need to feel
a touch that lingers
defies time  

I need to taste the night
feel words whispered
delicately placed
behind eager ears  

but here I wait
writing nonsense
on smooth sheets of paper
black ink
sticking to my fingers
in the ignorant silence
of my room  ##  

* * *

FEVER  

lucid images
silver shaded words
that crumble smooth
inside my mind
and each elemental
sound... that bleeds
a ribbon of ruddy syllables
soft-spilling from my lips
and i am touching these...
the notions of flesh
with my fingers sliding
curving over rose-petal skin
lost in thought  ##  

* * *

FORCED

light floods smooth through the open door
bathing my bodies-heat with the rhythmic shades of gold
and time paces through, and i lie cold against the floor
that forces the memories back.. the ones i lost.. the ones
i sold
to him that night.  in the breathing time
that shuddered down my back laced with lips
and tonight. pale visions come thick with rhyme,
song, and music... always music.. brings me back to this  ##  

* * *

VOX

there appeared
in the form of smooth
supple lips
the end of the earth
and the deeps of salt-laden
oceans.. and mist.. the isle
of dream.. and the images
the godhead .. with his body
set with jewels
hair dropping black... wet trembling
with the taste of the sea
and with my thoughts..  

and my mouth.. the dislocation
of sound.. and syllables..
like shards of glass
swollen and bound
my fingers shattering
at the mere suggestion of touch
and the form of silence
and the emerald vision
of bodies.. and flesh
and hands... mere hands
i was intoxicated by each
ancient movement
a memory to me
a faint touch
that lingered on
delicate skin
and ripped hope
from the gold-colored heat
the violet tinged scent
of my breasts  

moments..
the inescapable visions
of diamond crusted dreams
in the darkness
in the heat of soft-shimmering night
that hovers over smooth flesh..
and breeds in the spaces of heaven  ##  

* * *

LIAR

the sterility of sound rang out..
clattered in my head
a shattering cacophony
of what I wanted to hear;
what I ached to discover
in the vague intonations
of your voice...
and the mood
that you fumbled
child-like
beneath your breath  

you could have lied
smothered truth
with smooth syllables
and slender glances....  

you should have lied
you should have left truth
void and hollow
a smouldering  sacrifice
of kindness
or tenderness...
the shadow of something
you have never shown
to me...
the essence
of that which i have never touched...  

and i am half-formed
an illegitimate
and i have left dreams
to those who can afford them
for i am poor
in this suffocating element
with love
i am broken
and with love
perhaps...
i shall find solace  ##  

* * *

PREDATORY INSTINCTS

my body:  curved
a fine tuned instrument
with precise sharp movements
that deafen you
smooth silken flesh
the fruition of time
with its rough hands
fingers
and sinews taut
a panoply of my own
devices that tremble
godlike
the understanding of this form
i am awakened
lips dripping with the taste
of the night
air shuddering past my body
and soon it will be gone
escaping my mouth
the vague memory of a predator  ##  

* * *

REGIONAL AUTUMN

tender flecks
of yellow and gold
and violet tinged pieces
the color of pomegranates
the color of bright amber
and honey
and sun dipped fire
sumptuous
dribbling
from thick knotted branches
swarming around me
like
ten thousand
liquid butterflies
vibrating in the stillness
of the crisp november wind
in the pause and cessation
of the smooth roar
that penetrates
         reverberates
inside my ears
filling my head
with the fleshy scent
of autumn  ##

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