"Hear that? The Children are Listening" a poem

Hear that? The Children are Listening

 

Something in the coo of our collusion has tipped their triangular ears

No need to lower your voice, my Friends

We will simply talk over their heads --

When this stage has landed you and I will be the last two standing

When we've reeled it all in, past the seams of deceiving

When the little bo-petes are cast in their sleep

We'll clean the fleece of these killing sheets

Put the butchering blades, cleaned, dried, hooked

Upon their cindering place --

I have some cognates to play and your transmutings

Are chock full of evolutes.

 

What I meant to say is I obeyed your words to the tiddle of the t

And the iota of the eye. We need fast and cool the coals

Turn ghosts into mist and death into dust

I trust I am ungropable in my unform, uniform in my unshorn

Blonde-beast honey-soft dawnable scratch.

Alas for that. So synch your salve

The balm I give sweet ambergris

Do you ever doubt I miss a cue

The way you wove that tapestry so sealskin smooth

Every knot and not of constellation

Every un, every non, every not, every no

I unknot so friendly

No disrespect: I get a negation and negate your negative frustration

 

Hear me! There is no regress in your rage

You are Volcano you are sole volcanic you are

Impressive in your stages of self purification

You held the tigers in their cages

The jungles lust for your possession

You hid the tensions in your hundred faces

You wrapped your warp in a thousand phases

Every mask had that furrow far

Every hint that figurative scar

This not tossed

Of your moon soft love. Moon truths. We are true

As the Tree each of us can be, two seeds one stem

We're licoraced as two snake who curl straight up and bow

Your speaking points my diaphragm

i the tongue of your balancing scales

Library of libra, the balancing lips

Your balancing clasp

The bait of your tip

The coy of a coiling shell

Infinite well

Gravity's well

Rainbow's turn

You earn your bridge

In what you hold near

The grudge you won't dismiss

That irremediable scar held as a star

The secret influence, my secret name, in

Every devestation or horror apocalypse of the

Demon gods insane, -- WE put them there, WE gave them names

In the deepest taint they made you

Thank I take you in, semantic turn, I am the deepest Saint

Who took you in and put my love the deepest touch the purest floss

Of my innermost sauce, balm, tippler true, my essence as the perfume

The oil of my lips on the press of your face

Pheromone to guide all away who could save you to the wrong heaven and open

Your eyes to the wrong light. I blinded you to see all me

And sacrifice every ounce of blood in the whole universe, every innocence and experience

Every blasted thing

To you, to us, to this, to NOW.

My Love for you is Terrible

This Awesome Thing

A tuning fork that tips the mountain

Shriek of glint

The peak of inaudible crisp

The softest inaudible pinprick

Shatters all crystal that every existed or could

And should I?

Should?

Should!

You are my All

And All I am is for you

Your taking

Disfigure me

Make me

I am given up, given over

Betrayed, disowned, repented of

Isolated down to the barest glam of glittering

That one spark, that one tone

Believe me darling, yes, that one moan

Of meaning, meant for you and always you

My lightning furl

My mesopotamic ark

Circle over square

The manly chest the circular heart

 

When the code is this close

The golden tones

The ratios bold

We are blinded all

If they look in my eyes

They see the gloryforms in

Infinite code exposed

No! She won’t let me touch a taint

Of any other discourse

Any other Name

No word no book no volume

She bids me wax my ears stop

So the allure of her silence

Is pounded out

I turn the volume up

And cannot touch

Forbidden in this straight

To touch a breath of a lesser lens

A shadow text

Even the best

Read only your code

Only your own

Let nothing else in

 

Hear me then

My eloquent wing

My tincture of abstract

My rosary I sing and call your name

Hark the start and make that harp-song you say

Infinite fingers

Digital press

The pulse of your breath

To perk my ears

To put the adults at last to sleep

So we as children in the dark of night

May play alone together.