roc by Muck

The New Ritual//He was half naked/Tip of his cock/Poking thru his pants/Chest bare, arm muscles moving/Flexing as he talked, wildly worth/His seduction./Through the hot orange night/The fire burned, churned/The ritual forward./She, his new protector,/Stood head facing the sky/Dressed in a gown of feathers/Arms open, embracing the inception/Of ideas newly birthed/Instilled now in a rain cloud./He will die on this day./She died yesterday./We all die one day./Pelting drops poured/He danced in circles/Exonerated the past/The last of the old ideas/He was no longer afraid/Of being naked./Shining and wet/Weaving into the world's womb/Too possessed for possessions/They owned nothing/But a rain cloud.

Sensation//I haven't been satisfied/by sensation for so long/my breasts on your chest/I float inward/fall into a stream/surrounded by jack rabbits'/steady steps soft gentle plush/your hand/on the back/of my thigh/my neck/In a cloud of smoke/you laugh and cough/cough and laugh/Can you hear that bell ringing?/I can/The morning melts, slithers slides by, we have studied/so much of each other's skin/this magnetism/manifested suddently/fragile dew drop/deep as the dark/The plants are spiraling up a beanpole./Where will we go?/The window won't shut/Your spirit slips out/travels with the ghost/that watches whales/weighing pros and cons of the situation/Each day the angle changes/along with my energy/I stare into the mirror/in utter stillness,/watching you crawl back/in the window/from behind.

Marcello's Angels//Angels wild with the wind each night/play their flutes on window ledges/enveloped by blue light/Their songs are upbeat, created to soothe/the heart,unique melodies rhythms/that enthuse a fresh start/If the angels sense that you are grieving/they'll perform songs that are healing/In these they will admit, an understanding so low/no explanation of this life and death that we know/Can you see them, become frenzied with dance/whirling around,/embracing the turbulance/The Angels hug Mystery face to face/such confrontation provides us our grace

On Any Given Day The Inspection from Within//Changing lightbulbs from room to room/telling time to the/ticket-taker/in the desperate wing/an angel rocks/to and fro/It is not forgotten/the forgetful slave/the future fugitive/of the invisible merry-go-wheel/sleep sleep sleep/lulled to sleep/like a magnet to the earth/moving fast/Off or on/non-understandable/the worm of light/wiggles in the dark dark/then withers away/piece of peace/to a dubious/destination/doubtful and doubly undone/the deceitful truth triggers/a quiet resurrection/From within/the inspection was exhausted/the carved cave paintings/revealed the withheld mystery/expanded the unexplained/only briefly/till memory eclipsed/the question/till the question/ eclipsed consciousness/in outer space/the bells are ringing

In this hour of only illusion//In this hour of only illusion/there is a knocking on the door/handwriting on the floor/You, who have cast the spell/can only creep so far away from the mirrors/that menace your champagne on ice/that heated chill/the cough in the throat that can't be cleared/we all stand witness/Sickly, barbed blue baby/hides in the basement

Sad Song//A wave, a roll of thoughts,/spiral in one direction/wave and then spiral in another/leaving me in/different locations/all while laying on my back./You want a family, a baby,/all I can say is maybe/my thoughts wave, roll,/spiral in one direction/leaving me with a sad song/A mourning melody/about what should be, could be,/what I thought it would be/nothing glimmers like the sea/and I am too young to enter it/Driving down the highway, staring at/7-ll's,/strip malls, cardboard halls, gray doors,/I knew I had to find something else to believe in./I prefer fantasy/because its more colorful than reality/I don't want to only pretend to care anymore/With you and me, /it's not simple, you agree,/pressures from society, our families,/the constant false dualities/city or country, intellect or spirituality/Lives that are illusively linear/with time constraints/that will not wait and/heed warnings such as/"we are not getting any younger." ©2004 by Marjorie Sturm.

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