The Poet Mage

SOLAR FLARE


The same verse in your eyes full of love
The same wisdom in your eyes full of love
The same the same the same

You turn over to go to sleep
I will miss you

You wake up
I have been without you

Now we are one


The day begins
There are specters

How many days
Before this one?

The day begins
There are spiders

How many destinies?



I love you and love you and love you
My heart will burst, it will shatter into fragments
Am I worthy of this love? Your love spills over,
Shattered fragments of perfection

I cannot hold anything inside
I can't hold anything in

Where is the sun?
It is in your mouth

Where is the moon?
Hidden in your sex

Where are my eyes?
They are your eyes.



Oh the song of all my love rages inside my nostrils
Tangles in my hair, reflects off the mirrors of my belly

Twisted paths and creeks of white wine run down my skin
Solar flares



We eat lunch, it is a masterpiece:
Priceless treasure

The day finds its rhythm
It will soon rain

But first sunshine
The sky as bright
As dream lights
Fabulous cities
Velocities
Ferocious angular yellow
Trains in your voice
Hummingbirds of
Your hair
Tender and delicate
Phrase turned slowly
Upon your tongue
We are one
We are one I hear you say
But your eyes are silent and happy
Has your mouth moved?
I shall catch the words
As they spill from your lips
With a kiss





It is raining. The electromagnetic energy of the sky
charges our body and bathes our thought.
How did it come to rain? We clean the body
With the tongue. Words wash us clean. Words
Of love.

It is evening, sky darkening secret hopes.
We want children. We are in love. We pray
For more rain.

The moon is fertile red crescent above the bay.
Where is the moon? Hidden in your sex.

The moon is chiming cylinder in the wind.
Vibrates at unseen velocities: our thought.




Sleep and your body is curled.
I have bitten you apple, loosed
Fetters, curved inward, scooped
Dross and burned away gossamer.
You gleam. This is dream.
Sleep and your body is curled.




Oh you are a purple crystal in my throat.
You are a song in an unknown and beautiful language.
Sing my throat in clear, glass tones. Everything is song.


_____
STANLEY GEMMELL
JULY 9, 2005
U.S.A.

Model: Carolina Rosini