Forgive me if I took the love as read
Our fate and bodies entangled together
It’s my nature to leave things unsaid
To preserve the mystery of the mussed up bed
To forge a chain that nothing can sever
Forgive me if I took the love as read
One of us has been cruelly misled
Confusion reigns as to whether
It’s my nature to leave things unsaid
Blood and love run wine dark red
Weightier than an Egyptian feather
Forgive me if I took the love as read
Desire riots barefoot in the head
I thought we would transverse the forever
It’s my nature to leave things unsaid
Perhaps everything is something instead
The resolution has to be now or never
Forgive me if I took the love as read
It’s my nature to leave things unsaid
I never denied the beauty:
Imperial pomp of sunrise,
The seductive glamour of sunset.
The snaking voluptuous river,
Swollen with incessant downpours,
The glitter of rare raw minerals,
A glimmer waiting in the depths.
Beyond the mist in the distance,
The harrowing sublimity of mountains.
The perceived chant of the angels,
Drifting across the aether.
The vertiginous descent of the eagle,
Intent upon the sighted prey.
The patient strength of the ox,
Harnessed for growth and generation.
The gilded and haloed lion,
Surveying the buffet of the savannah.
The shining lights of the city,
On the snow capped hilltop.
The voluminous text of flesh
Awaiting to be read in the dark.
The beauty of the world is undoubted:
But I suspected treachery
A beauty that bites after caressing
Wanting to leave its mark
Because it too is just passing
A floating world of samsara,
Always changing; never
Still: completes a cycles,
Pauses briefly before transformation
Then same as it ever was,
Is or will be.
Giorgio Di Chirico-The Enigma of an Hour-1910/1911
Far and wide I have travelled
Through the Gateless Gate of the Jade Courtyard
Bounded the wooden stairs two by two
Discovering within this sparse hotel room
A place as serene as a walled garden
Because waiting here for me I find you
And what species of flowers will bloom
As I stroke the lock of the Vermillion Gate
So I beg of you, don’t open the blinds.
For a few seconds a stray sunbeam Makes visible the dance of dust motes Swaying, trembling, swooning then falling I have been granted a glimpse Of harmony in the floating world For the moment I am deeply content Eyelids heavy, chin dropping towards chest I dream of angels in a distant Heaven Languidly embracing in the shallows Of a limpidly becalmed pool.
Illustration for Madame Edwarda by Georges Bataille-Kuniyoshi Kaneko-1976
As the tiger is to space,
So sex is to time,
Apparition of savage grace,
The prelude to crime,
A loss of all face,
A rending tear in the fabric
Stitched together by some joking maverick
Demented demiurge blind
And paralytic:
The only thing on your ravaged mind
Syphilitic,
Is where to find
The pot to piss and shit in
Which is, all things considered, rather fitting.
We’re near the limits of the I,
But I is another,
A discontinuity of cries,
All passion is other,
Into the emptiness we sigh,
Signs descend into parody,
Eggs eyes and testicles a chain of analogy.
I meet God, a lazy whore
Lolling on a bed,
Don’t you want some more?
As she opened her legs she said:
I needed her tender and raw
So I could penetrate the mystery,
Plumb the void of the coruscating divinity.
cakeordeathsite 