Month: Jan 2011
Sensuality is one of the most misused and underestimated elements of life. It can be physically degraded in vanity and exploitation (eg. pornography, lewdness, etc.) or spiritually elevated in healing and lovemaking (eg. massage, tantra, etc.). Sensuality is often a missing element in music – although music is probably the most spiritually sensual of all the arts…
© 2011, Alan Morrison
I’m such an easypushover magnet man
that any lovelyloving girl
could wrap me round her little finger
in a whirl
and there I would stick
while she rapidly shakes her hand
to get me to uncurl.
They know the game
and who can blame them?
It’s called Natural Selection
Survival of the Fittest
(There is no protection).
We are all simply following
blind instinct calls;
jungle activity even enthrals
unhairy apes (but inside their walls).
Hanging from a height –
your rope a way of keeping me at bay,
rather than a noose
(although it might as well be one!) –
I drop right out of sight
[although I think that I was never
In your sights
for anything more than fantasy,
Some token of exigency,
a convenience food
with which to ease
your pristine nights]
with you in your bed,
me in mine,
while you commit
your champagne crimes.
He stood at the foot of the mountain
with his hands in his pockets
and his heart in his head.
Looking at the summit
He questioningly said:
I wonder if I am totally in love
with love instead
of being in love with you?
This is a problem,
and immediately fell to the floor
and desperately sighed.
(For she was no more alive
in his blinkered eyes).
You can latch your love onto
of a million and one
It makes no difference
in the overall
scheme of things;
For all roads take us to home –
that sacred outpost of serendipity
which is way beyond the self
and every magic thing which can be conjured
in the galaxy of greed [take heed].
I can say this with confidence
for I have been there –
strutting on the rugged path
which takes you to land’s end
along clifftops and outcrops
excrescences and backdrops
designed to drain
the last drop of broken blood
from even the most hardened
I lie in bed and scan the jet-black sky
For light which I can make my lone way by.
The billion stars which strew the galaxy
(Although so lightful that together they
Could send a blinding flash around my feet)
Are but pinpricks giving off rays too weak
To illuminate my stumbling weary
Fumbling bleary-eyed grudging undersleep.
I was waiting by a canyon
Never saw a rising sun
A cold wind wrecked my fortunes
Always went back to square one
Above me only dark night
And below me wasted earth
Each time I found the pieces
Every picture was absurd
All it took was one small phone call
And a voice to melt the snow
Bubbling from your radiant heart
With electric afterglow
You came right out of nowhere
On a mission with a plan
Then you said “I’m changing places
With a new me if I can”
I have cut off my love
Like sailors stem the strident tide
(I did it only to survive)
Pushed all the crazy paving way outside
That I no longer have to walk beside you
I have strapped up my arms
A jacket strait from padded cells
All wrapped up in my little shell
I hug myself in vain [my private hell]
That I no more can throw myself around you
With heaps of darkened ashes stretched behind,
[Like dusty shrouds with traces (twisted time)
Of shameful things as well as the sublime
Of all the kindly deeds (and not so kind)]
The fading moments take their deathly toll;
While scythe-like shadows hover round the bell
The last remaining shudder sounds the knell.
(See the coffin decked in bright burnished gold).