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Earth terra mater under the domain of Tellus and the fertility of Ceres in the month of April fooling the Gregorian calendar of the nineteenth footing into thinking that all the lost years with their spent seconds silently scatter across the docile meaning of the body earth mother earth father earth with all its kin of conflagration living the good fat life that only earth can give to its breath bound inhabitance its ocean fumaroles ignition that dive and float submissively to its commands issued as a hurricane of wind and water blinding the hunger of the air to be filled up with a desire for war with Lazarus falling sick with the saving of the sorrowful soul but truthful spirit and body suffering the healing salvation of rain on the face asleep the rain keep its lament spent on the rhyme of seven heaven where the together weather of your emotion toil in the soil of the flesh that went bent in the lush thrush brush of a rush winning the praise of the Gods weather my fair weather friend my everyday companion we wear each other both night and day wear each other both fair
Earth of a packing house where the cold pill is due to heal the oracle of Abu the hypothesized possibility found in the age of naming where the astonishing wrong doing of watching television is held tight against the fatigue night unable to sleep but must continually move toward the birth of daylight itself a roving angle angel waiting to be lit up the promise of rain is heard on the breeze a sleepy thing easing its way southeastward the sky crack open in a flood of emotion and the clouds give birth all is not lost along the long string of rain that break open on the concrete where puddles reflect rain embracing the air with a song to sing where its refrain scare with a flare the lie’s prize of vows on the boughs of spring’s wings that roar a shore pour its score ascend till spent on the prime slime of life on the shoulder of the beholder bolder then its brother as a mother nursing as a father protecting as a lover sharing the house of the heart the cage where age finds its full measure that dwells and fell in the flesh there where whine us down to the rare air of the end of the wind and we make amend to our rescued friend overwrought by the hand of the land where the burial of an oak is stroked where the watery bed is bred from snow where the sea-swell’s will is the joy of a poor boy and everywhere the round motion of air’s breath is caught in the seamanship of a forsaken waken by the thunder down under seeming redeeming of the eternal burn my soul remember the greenish yellow path in the Taebaek mountains of Korea the colonized bells the sat Buddha among the fall foliage and the white beaches of Cheju-do the remembrance of blood on Port Chop Hill deceased renaissant memories the empty lights of a by-gone day I have paid for my days all 54 years of them the wreckage of the immaculate virgins as a poet I tell all of my secrets I caught herpes from a Korea whore a business girl a picked up in a G I bar in the village of Tongduchon where the redemption by wild fire water wild women and wild drugs the cargo of the American soldiers on leave from Camp Casey on an over nighter pass a turtle sleeping in the dinner plate bed of a whore once an immaculate virgin do she ever contemplate the consistency of her trade the sharing of the naked skin
Earth with its eyes to the ground watching over fresh graves turned out of their skins in the last holy art of reasoning that the sons of Ganymede are going to war against those who will kill the eagle rather then let the voluptuous beautiful cup bearer into their estheisi invented heaven where only the catholic claim that they can go where the shittim wood overlaid with gold housed in the smited want of sex it shall come to pass that all shall be seen as sisters and brothers in the midnight hour of our forgivefulness the kind mind shall triumph in the season of our faithful reason when earth birth the exultation of our salvation and we know that the tender slender flocks of flowers the thunder of colossal colors fit for the eyes of bees that fly the scented why of a reply the handsome face of a flower’s grace drift as lift by the wind that roam without a home sing long of the wind with a song overflowing with the first communion for Nature is the godhead of the all mighty consolation the royal ration the blooming fuming consuming years of tears she is mouth and ears divine she is the first and the last of life all imposing power that cover all none can step outside none can go pass there is no knowable knowledge without her celesta power she is the present living God of Gods she is Isis and Bast Ninhursay and Ishtar Devi and Shiva Artemis and Athena Agrona and Brigid Freyla and Fulla Mary and Eris she is God my father my mother wedlock as one
Earth has witnessed man claiming the tree of knowledge to discern the suppose scientifically hidden face of God when the face is all about him to be seen in the skin of trees in the flesh of water in heart of dirt in the forgetful voice of the wind in the consumption blood of mosquitoes in the restless pumping heart of the conflagration of bees in the motion of ants’ knees and the breath of a fly buzzing about busily about the business end of the day where our breath feeds the trees that feed in return in this union is to be found the sensual air trap in the lung of a new born the birth of a tree the birth of a child both a holy thing brother of the other joy in the birth of a boy joy in the birth of an oak kind in kind in the flung flame of a tongue by defiance name she is the same that can not know shame with justices and with grace she keep to her pace strong she can not do wrong
Earth has witness the eternal eminent and minimal minute broken down to where we are holding fast in its circumstance of a mythological relationship that rationalize the passing of a prophet’s minaret into the cries of the faithful whose mouth is full of begging prayers the world bowel is forever fat and full of begging while we no longer call to the spectral sun in it ephemeral rebirth to save us from the cyclone orgasm ragging across the face of earth we are her heir we born bare wear the concern that turn on the tip of our minds in the hour of our greatest need we plea to a God never seen our needs betwixt the fixed mixed rife of life spent on the element of laws that draw praise to the supposedly only way but the poet say rest in the breast of the breath you who do through your daily lockup live look to the very birth of your union look to the everyday God immaculately full of worms God of the shared air the understood undertook motherhood of the flood of blood in the veins the mystery of the Nazareth is not the same for he requires a far flung heaven and not the wondrous robe of the globe with its good heart playing the part of the will still in the flesh the marvelous conceive before the year that man was born we are late comer to the Godhead
