My Wild



Sea, its boulders for sitting upon

slapped by gasping waves 

whose clucks like mouths slapped mad by hunger

of blue-green algae for stone, breaks and roars, soothes

lovers asleep by the shore,  

their long swathed wrestle lines 

obliterated.


Tides in me erase me and my landfall is indecision. 

My aspect is dreams.  Stringy ardent meadows are in me. 


They whirr.  My meadows whirr in sun mountains rise up to dare it

to find nooks and crannies of preternatural and utter shadows

even winter its ice too warm to bear


–– but not in my seas.  There 

I can’t hide from my own sun, its blazes so merry

drawn deep so deep, deeply and down it bends rises up in descenscion

the holocaustic conformity of salt,

and sinks, for the gods of water

have never been purer than the wizards of death,

but free like dullard planets math-bound to an only ambition.



My waters are cold inside my blood’s heat, but pretty are the stars

like holes driven through a coffin, corpse indifferent 

or as diamonds upon your live skin vitale,

your hips, curve of back and lines of motion of lids half parted

and lips golden bourbon moans


O none, these, nor wild of my heart, it, savage hungry soils

of desolation crocodile snouts clamped into sludge filled universes

behind a terrible patience of blackdot eyes reddened of swirls yellow and green 

all the world’s teeth ach in one skull.


My wild is the brilliance of bats, not caves nor blossoms awaiting birth

but you are infinite, immeasurable and there.










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DannyBeatty
Poetry
Free Verse
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