Encounters

I came across a poem I wrote in 1986 which was published in Vice Versa in 1989. Strange how my outlook on our social transactions have changed little since then. I thought I share it to fill the interlude between my usual posts.


Encounters

From the thorax down through the genitals
spreads a river of light against the somber flesh
changing chameleon-like blending
now and again into autumn woods
amidst spidery ferns
I extend my hand to
mould a touch onto your skin
my veins become woody and
produce leaves that turn forever to the sun

My thoughts concealed in cavernous temples
where our limbs contort to the
sculptured stone of breath deposits
where doors cancel other doors
and you a column supporting the entrance frame
to a primordial landscape of desire
in which the total extension of being
is held within one swoop of the arms

A sound transfixed in your eyes
a glance of longing warmth
I stretch my flesh to cover yours
and disappear into the framework
catching the last stream of light
penetrating the thick canopy
you extend your neck beyond the horizon
and integrate your body into landforms
I walk your footsteps gently
and caress your features unfolding in the night

You have arrived in my voice
as a falling star burning in the sky
your lips whisper blue
and I with scissored fingers
cut the words into ribbons
dissecting paths upon which
we have traveled so many times
around this earth with faces to the ground
eyes closed to free the mind
in search of relief
I device the unnameable you

A lifetime of walking has brought us to this
where the earth assimilates the sky
where light casts no shadows
and all things are lost in silence
deep in the fields nature breeds confident
the seed of a significant moment
we pass transient on our way to somewhere else
in the assumption of an alter ego
unaware we missed another occasion

Drinking from lifelines
the indiscretion of an ongoing pregnancy
is the equilibrium of parting friends
seeking an independent turning point
an organized geometry from here to there
a metaphor of intricate branching
gliding across the sky as acrobats
chasing spasms of the flesh
apologetic affiliations of mind and body
a reservoir of tears held
in the dew of a grassy field

The earth is afresh with your awakening touch
an immaculate moment has rushed through my spine
a forgotten song held in your palm
unclothes the chaos locked in my blood
and segregates the region of raw feelings
victims of an art that cannot take shape
architects of formless clarity

Aware of the silt of history
submerged in century of rain
where our fingers walk embraced
past skeletal shipwrecks
with renewed lust we
seduce each other breathless
victims of our muscles we
drill with frenzy deep into our skin
a flurry of things unrecognized
are maintained for a moment
in sympathetic murmurs
that fall silently back into the self
all thoughts compressed in an instant

Time skims the flesh
billions of seconds release us from their grip
we rebound in untranscendable passages
through enigmatic corridors
everything becomes an abstraction
relentlessly descending towards
a point in the horizon
a point where all reality converges and vanishes

Here at the ends of the earth
where groves of trees do not grow
and rivers no longer flow
the sky opens to the stars
a treacherous cold invades my body
all that I possess
is already lost without a sigh
I've hidden my heart in ancient walls to remain alone in your memory
here sleeps the air dispersed in monotones

My arm spread like wings
keep the rain from falling
on this surface where I write you a letter
concealed in the chambers of a seashell
whose words echo the sound of oceans
they are words from an ancient vineyard
found among the flowering grasses
before the closing of the sky
where protected our hearts slept green
a memory of naked flesh
a candid image of adolescence
upon which our tongues
invented spiraling fireworks
in search of signs that superseded life

And now you appear as the earth
fields, woods, water, desert
a remote country from which
I exiled hide lost asleep in your dreams
within the limits of darkness
our voice a song from walled wells
dug into our earthen eyes
that bury the sky deep


Our time has been of blood and fury
how easy it is to die still living
is it too late to love?
Forgive me if I don't remember your name
it is the hour of departure
of finite inertia
when every corner becomes transparent
in the hour of the last shout
a multitude of fingers reaching to touch others
there are no lives missing in eternity
to love someone of this earth
is to lose the apathy of meandering destruction

I follow the shadow of the upturned sky
the oceans can be heard all along this path
it is almost winter
and the birds form choirs
of vibrating clouds towards the horizon
I've formed other words for you
no elegies or flattery's
these words are made of junipers
of olives and ferns
and bulbs to plant in your garden

I step the way a raindrop spreads
in the filtered light that reveals your form
your skin has turned blue petrified
and overgrown with lichen
the earth has absorbed your form into its scheme

I sit by your side and wait
a restless stillness of perpetual rotation
a prisoner of non-time
bellowing shouts from within another
through visions of a non-experienced world
every molecule of air becomes a measuring unit
before the vacuum of inflicted silence
whose remains echo the beginning of time itself

The two worlds
that from which we came
and that to which we are going
negating each other in succession
the negative and positive
of a familiar photograph
slightly out of focus
inaccurate in its delineating details
a ghost image
of an unknown source of energy

Unaware of my form
being and not being
one last thought remains:
the perpetual possibility
of a metamorphosis.