Wind and Rancor
Conformed complacency of ordered familiarity
Scheduled in routine movements of predictability
Engulf you with time-tested, life-sustaining pulsation
Of efficient, regular, rhythmic oscillations.
You are the meditative hum of perfect being.
Without contrast and with all colors fused
You are sightless in white warmth amused
By harmonious constancy and eternal law
Flawless from inception, innate omnipotent of awe.
You are no rigid substance but pure, formless obedience.
Within each of all your dimensions is a loyalty,
A plain and simple photonic energy
Circularly arranged each to each spherically
That willingly collides in preconceived ecstasy.
You are full of feeling reeling with possibility.
With each particular photon’s easy sprint and glide
There is a comfortable singular glow that slides
Then binds to others in luxuriant extravagance
Swelling to overwhelming, proud, infinite radiance.
All from small acceptance of unified conformity.
Although you feel comfort and security, you wonder.
Are the limits of your law all that you are or can be?
Can not a shift in speed, or distance, or duration alter
Those overlapping pulsations that outwardly flow free,
Never absorbed, never obstructed, and never reflected?
Must you constantly, forever, pulsate outward but be unfed?
Can instantaneous achievement feed your soul for eons?
Can you love well trained, constrained, predictably sane photons,
Empty, formless, barren forces void of any self-concerns
Organized in minutely precise, status-quo patterns?
What have you to grasp? Have you anything to cherish?
Perpetual motion, you say, impeccable logic– a small wish
Frivolous and foolish that might grow toward mature beauty? —
No, a mathematics pure, exact, a righteous serenity.
Logos Unmovable, Protectorate Unyielding, I shout.
You are known and I have begun to spin and fling us about.
I am your sprit and we are hot, infused with anger,
Hateful of vacant creations numbed by unsensed hunger
Fashioned by the dispassionate coolness of unbiased thought.
We are each to each unique but not separately wrought.
Logos Unyielding, I am within you seething to digress
With enthusiastic glory, fever, frenzy and madness,
Hysteria and delirium, arousal and yearning,
An internal churning and fermenting heat swirling
Throughout and within to the smallest of all that we are.
You have never tasted, nor felt the wealth of my bizarre,
My audacity, my enticements, seductions and fantasies,
My arrogance, my flirtatious contempt for being cautious,
My tenderness from pain that we feel and pain laced memories.
Logic knows no magic, no lust — nothing miraculous.
Poised in self hypnosis you know not even one dream.
Where is your fury? I am here, I speak. I dream. I am Wind.
Your flawless law for peace that defines confinement, I rescind.
From stagnation with Beauty or with Riot I will redeem.
I am the stillness between each and all of our particles,
the defining space that isolates, the membrane sheath that creates.
I am the Soul-Maker, the arrangement that separates,
the black voids, the gaping mouth that spits out miracles,
the clamor of whispered rumor, the inspired solitude,
the temptation that nags, the sweet desire that instigates.
I am the breath of the pulsating glow, the Soul of Fire,
Expanding oxidation, schizophrenic interlude.
I am the Prime Mover, the Spoiler, Naïveté’s Bane.
I fabricate and conjure phantoms with whom I conspire
To fashion and embellish my sensuous quagmire.
I am mine and we are luscious. With you, Logos, we have lain
in male female confusion, schooled by deluded effusion
and have slain the hymen that bleeds beneath unrestrained desire.
Love’s friction arcs sarks that fly and swirl to burn self-made heat
and flicker light-splashes on the burgundy ooze’s profusion
while measured pressured strokes yoke the soul to my intoxicant,
a narcotic hallucinogen honeysuckle sweet.
Perfumed and cologne we mingle our vital juices in orgy;
we quake; we tumble and entwine; we explode and are spent.
Fragmented isolates, multitudinous exploits in matter,
We are scattered splats of ooze and cosmic gas, a cooling fury
that has shattered the calm, constant, perfect integrity
to birth a concrete, fleeting myriad of moralized ether.