Note in a bottle I.
Hands that feed me, sweet and easy
Cupped to pour into my mouth
Cradling a suggestion, not minding
With a feather touch of assertion weeding out
The vines that tether me to my soles
Lonesome tenderness trickling spring water
Down the fingers on my cheeks and throat.
Note in a bottle II.
Stele of the Onyx stone in these four walls
Though nailed and impaled doth not fracture
Masterpiece mandalas of a fortified Versailles
Aspired to by the very seraphs of Jannah\'s eye
Chamber nor prison, locks that cannot break
Adversity bare in my steely gaze
Laying - watching, in still repose
Through the bars of brick and bone
So long as I can see
The starry skies.
Note in a bottle III
the sun has set as it does again
moon blown melton, burning our faces with a scorching winter wind
paving paths of splendid effervescence; painting rays onto her skin
she shies at the look in my eye as we feast, our feet at the pit oven
teeth grind and cheeks are full - i\'ve harvested fruits for her hungry soul
she drags the calf by its hind legs and i kiss her silly
what is the body? what with seeds and flesh slipping out our mouths
but a vessel for all our appetites - temporal, temporary
A channel for vicious fervor, sensation and sanctuary
Tools to magnify myths and mystery; to bridge region, reason, and religion.