1. Beauty 

Beauty is in the I

of the Beholder.

But you and I 

are mirrors

that are looking at each other.

 

2. Infatuation

In a world of many things

                                      there are

                            things that walk,

                            things that talk

and things that love knows not.

For whom love is but a distant star

glimmering dimly in an

                                indifferent sky.

Through fog and smoke,

through smog and choke,

love lights its little lamps

and warms our aging bones

with young blood.

Love’s hand enfolds us.

The sparrow chirps to heaven

in his Maker’s clasp.

Trees lift their singers to

       the skies

and fill the world

          my life

          my heart

with your name.

In which distant labyrinths

do I hear an echo?

What once was

is gone.

What is, is borne

fading quickly away

                            away

                                     away.

My phantom life has

touched real worlds

but once.

The tunnel has closed

for today

for this year

for ever.

In perpetuum

hail fellow, well met

farewell.

Come, let us  pray.

 

3. Changes  

I loved you yesterday.

Today, there’s a new sun in

the sky.

All the roman candles in my

heart

are burnt out.

My mind’s possessed you 

several times

by the time

you’ve pursed

your lips.

I’ve had six orgasms

of imagination.

Let’s practice invagination

another time

another place.

I loved you yesterday.

Today I’ve changed my face.

You were cold, I was hot.

Today you’re warm, but I’m not.

Please don’t stay.

Just leave your absence behind.

I loved you yesterday.

Today I’ve changed my mind.

 

4. Recommitment

I am a traveller

in the ways of Beauty.

I have peered into clear

dark eyes

And held in my lap the

two halves of heaven.

I have wandered along

the paths of your hand

greeting my familiar places.

I have searched

your body for familiar faces

met old friends

and new along your byways;

touched the moist mystery of life

in your centre.

There, a rock remains

so strong

Life’s storms are reflected

in slow ripples

carrying all the tourists

in your soul

to calmer waters.

I am a traveller

in the ways of Beauty.

But strength draws me

home until the flood

begins anew.

 

5. How it all ends

Water drips its way to the sea.

All my minerals are draining

south.

They are singing a song

of the ocean

and hail the seagulls as they fly.

When will you return again

my precious jewels?

No answer but the

sound of rain on my back,

the sound of alcohol

drying up my blood

and dribbling out of me

draining its way to the sea. 

Someday, the sun

shall melt me

and of all my oils shall flee.

They shall run to the south

in their puddles

while bones lie bleaching

under beeches

or on beaches

turning to powder for free.

At no extra cost

I can be whisked from the north

whiskied as I can be.

Slowly but surely all my

parts shall dissolve.

I am draining my way

to the sea.