"The Two Weavers" a poem

The Two Weavers

I'm the Weaver of Lights

The Lux of Luxury

The Fiat Lux who IS

Glory ?Holy Spirit

Glowering Soul

Oceanic Groan

Sophia, Sovf

God as Mother

Cloven Tongued

Of Serpentine Eve

First Commentator

On the Law

Cain her First Begotten

Via Allah himself

Adonai

Yahweh

the Very God

Also Adam!

Say even "Alladin!"

Do you see

The "J Writer"

Was a woman

Necessarily

And possibly

David's own Colluder

Baathshebaa, too?

Harold' Bloom's

Overthetop Thesis

Regarding all this, 

Was more than Chutzpah.

It was also

In it's middling way

True.

Tom works in the dark

I have twenty lights on

At least

As my station

In the Palace of Athena

In the attic of Fortress Longstreet

I read a dozen books each moment

I forget

The first nine months

In this city of Dis

Are spent blind.

The child

SEES the voice of mother

She is FIAT LUX

And the babe

Makes of her

Take on life

The "pre-established harmony

Of an inborn sculpture of memory"

The most perfect cut of narrow touch

He will have in his life.

The babe

Has more synapses

Upon Birth

Than he will ever again

He is literally omniscient

From the double-tongue of "Hevve"

His Mother, his God ...

She will spend the NEXT "nine months"

In nine years with her externalized womb

The ROOM of his being,

The Nursury. 

For Woman is God

Man is her Slave

From her womb 

To her second womb

The Grave

Man has his place and being

In WOMAN alone

Her chit chat

MAKES the fruit of the womb

The warp and woof

Of the making of tissues and textiles

She literally skeins his frame

from She

From the stuff of her being

She the Fates, she the Norns

She Atropos, she ALL.

So Tom's drama

Of endlessly sculpting

basslines in the air

Is carving out, Jillian-style,

a thousand EAR WYRMS ...

The cello holders

In darkness.

He has televisions

and old movies

Old songs

Often ten songs at once, ten layers of music

Sonic turmoil

Sonic bliss

All At once.

Charles IVES

Remain alive and well

In the sonic Turmoil

Of my live-in teacher and friend

Tom, my brother-in-law.

Anyway, I no longer write

Palimpsests.

I write verse.

Jillian has arisen from the dead

No longer as some empty Beatrice

But as Genesis one to my true Genesis two:

My complete Sherry

Who I married and will forever marry

Again. My Cosmic Marriage, Celestial Bride

My ONE TRUE FRIEND

and Utter Same.

It is nearly five a.m.

I went to bed like an old man

At ten p.m.

What am I do with myself?

I ate all that Depakote

And wrestled with ALLAH again

Quite physically

Demanding more blessings and visions

Then, For one split second there was no

Bassline in the house.

Tom had died again.

Now Tom has a police monitor babbling

In the dark

His one spark of life

I know he is on some level "up"

Though Lord Osirus sleeps for days

In layers of sleep

Tom is Lord of Death

And Resurrection

In Endless Meaningful Ways.

Well

I got enough sleep!

I'm ALLOWED to wake up

Before the sun

Emerson style

And read a book alone in my room.

Ama, I choose you!

I will read

The Saga of the Volsungs

Where Our faithful braggart

Innocent Hero Sigurd

Falls undone

from a simple Love Triangle.

His ONE TRUE WIFE

Is never the divine jet-haired

Daughter of Odin, Brunhilde

But the simple psychic

Golden Haired GUDRIN.

Sherry, I mean YOU!