Part VIII

TANTRIC ENTICEMENTS I

One day I had No Idea...No Idea...I just had No Idea,
Only yearning to recoup the source of the universal panacea.
Daydreaming of the bliss of a symmetrically tight fit,
The inevitable result of recalling an easily acquired habit.
Thoughts, fantasies, and dreams help me savor my anticipation,
Silent incantation secretly praying for a hypertantric relation.

I’ll be your dear one if you’ll be my darling,
For truly I find you both lithe and charming.
The uncontained fierceness of your exhuberant caress,
Supercedes and compliments our preference for finesse.
Enflamement with prayer, the fullness of emptiness,
Holds consuming implications for stellar sex and happiness.

Energized enthusiasm helps us realize the full measure of devotion,
That burning must be cured through a well-stirred potion.
Harnessing orgasmic spiritual potential is the gist of tantric credo,
Rising on that energy, channeling serpentine flames of fiery libido.
Dwelling in higher realms, consciously realizing we are co-eternal,
While rooted in Earth, simultaneously exploring abysses so cavernal.

Come join me in the soulful bliss of periodic renewal,
Fill me up with irridescent pearls as your lover you bejewel.
Energies meet at the thousand-petalled crown of the fleshly nexus,
Superconducting kundalini rising through each chakra plexus.
We can only allude to that which is wordlessly auspicious,
The royal couple savor the taste of that ambrosial wine so delicious.

Plunge into the great within where my mysteries are hidden,
That intimate realm where for lovers nothing is forbidden.
Take it any way you want to, my mobile shape-shifter,
Simultaneously manifesting energy of a loving spiritual uplifter.
We now see the rosy dawn of clear inner light brightening,
Which illuminates a blooming lotus like robustly flashing lightning.

A column of auric light springs forth full-blown like Pallas,
Depending on the generating power of your rapidly expanding phallus.
After the long, hard ride of my unabashed and disarmored lancer,
I only, my love, am your solution, your naked loving answer.
To speak frankly to you thus titilates and tickles my fancy,
My speech flagrantly uncensored, betraying no hesitancy.

Recovering those secure feelings after an emotional crisis,
Can be like raising the dead Osiris, by loving wife Isis.
Penetrate the interior of the earth on a summer’s sensual visit,
And there find the secret of philosophers, considered most exquisite.
Sing the Ode to Joy of lovers who are romantically idealistic,
The intuitive execution of this holy act is spiritually ritualistic.

Your clarion call comes to me, a deep sultry sound voiced;
That sonorous sound makes my morning all dewy and moist.
The virtues of this sacred art the Kama Sutra long did extol,
Churning of the milk of heaven, secret elixer, quintessence VITRIOL.
Who wouldn’t willingly pay the ultimate price for philosophical gold,
And find and reveal the deep secrets that our inner places enfold.

Fly with me to new heights as feelings and sensations intensify,
Dive deep to find all these impressions arouse and deeply satisfy.
This heavenly body is a spiritual vessel and the alchemical retort,
Only the divine is the infinite power behind this astral transport.
You now, my love, are a god with mighty muscular force endowed,
Sent from heaven I wrap around you and completely enshroud.

Back and forth like the hefty swinging weight of a heavy pendulum,
Constantly recreating the Hermetic seal of a vaginal vacuum.
Inhaling the scent of nature, pheromone’s sweet perfume,
An intoxicating aroma custom blended to match each love’s bloom.
Time and again allow arousal to subside in a minor detour,
Then lovingly shoot straight for the moon of blissful amour.

Dancing together, peaking and plateauing in a hedonistic marathon,
Reveling in pleasures unknown to Crowley’s scarlet Whore of Babylon.
I am charmed and transformed by your waving magickal wand,
Together we joyously build a body of indestructible diamond.
Let’s see how long that crescendo of response we can prolong,
Only the shared language of arousal is our unleashed love song.

Changing speed and simultaneous expectations together collude,
Changing focus channels aspirations toward a higher amplitude.
Arousal rises in a wavelike pattern, turning into a whirlpool,
We spasm rhythmically in a psychedelic jackpot at the vestibule.
Euphoric reflex triggers aftershocks of an earthshaking simile,
This shared emotional peak experience is much more than hyperbole.

TANTRIC ENTICEMENTS II

Here’s an invitation to the pillow, my tantric high priest,
As intimate as it is compelling, from your audacious artiste:
A whiff of natural aromas suffusing the air, most succulent,
The apogee of sensuality lies within our joint corporeal embodiment.
We see that Clear Light which insists on shining, lunar and solar,
Rapt souls remember taste and smell alone of a transit circumpolar.

Responding to the scent of universally seductive jasmine and hyacinth,
Come join in a dance, part the curtains, come explore my labyrinth.
This love taps all our primal emotions like a long-forgotten moonrise;
Slavishly aroused by chemical messengers, volatile molecules atomize.
We imagine from the distance echoing strains of a musical rondeau,
Round and round, Bacchinalian delights lead to amorous vertigo.

In a hazy reverie of past encounters, bent over backwards romantic,
Reveals that emotions which lie below conscious thought are oceanic.
The heart of sweet remembering is all too precious, red as garnet,
Recalling the rush of emotion and memory until it is incarnate.
Reaching into our emotional lives is this bewitching call of the siren,
She who has been exposed to everything by the likes of a Lord Byron.

Once we begin emerging from the deepest caves in our minds, shyly,
Revealing ourselves, all manner of things can happen, wild and wily.
A combination of scent and embodied sensuality is unusually attractive,
Involuntary powers interact, whether dominant or submissive, co-active.
The chemical essence of animal communication is distinctive and flagrant,
A residual aroma suffusing the air leaving it so redolent and fragrant.

Lubricating sticky fluid runs down my cheek, liquified and milky,
Preparing the way for a symphony of sensations, elegant and silky.
The master and mistress of this plan, God and Nature, make it brilliant,
It helps us cope with the problems of life and keeps us ever-resilient.
Here’s a strong sensuous signal: come and lay your head on my pillow,
To your incarnating power I will voluntarily bend like a sapling willow.

In olden times, divine courtesans gave their all to the Magna Mater,
To sacred hierodules came one and all to worship that holy krater.
They sought fertility and fruition, a salve regeneratively creative,
The real pleasures in life help us bond with joys so cumulative.
Some still know the muskiness of sex without guilt or soap, soul bathing,
In which each is the extension of the other, each the other’s plaything.

Licked and pumped from deep within, a draught so rich and creamy,
Comes from the south, from that fertile crescent, hot and steamy.
Smells are surer than sound or vision, sensory input incessant,
To make our organs respond in tune and grow infinitely tumescent.
Tastes and smells can be sensuously heavy or light as a feather;
They make our heartstrings sing, while we are writhing together.

Initiated by the ardor of hot-blooded Mars, the “prospector,”
Answered from the core of emotions, dove-like Venus, the reflector.
Sweep me up in your arms, my beloved, be my morning’s highlight,
Or take me in the ever-dimming glow of the dwindling twilight.
Universally gifted, both gleaming now, all radiant and smiling,
The emanations of sacred body’s manifest form is oh so beguiling.

All of these aspects reflect the divine virtues of complete arousal,
Spiritual, mental, emotional and physical declarations of espousal.
Stimulating associations evoke, frighten, arouse and scintillate,
A roaring cascade of sensations and imagery they begin to initiate.
Lovers create an astral temple all their own, deep inside a starry vault,
Whose canopy is held aloft by a singular sturdy column of basalt.

We fall together like the Walls of Jerico, breaking down our ramparts,
Eliminating all restrictive barriers between the worlds of sweethearts.
The rush of that confluence is downright irresistable and torrid,
Then our human scent trail dissipates, left behind in sheets now florid.
Is this an intimation of evolution’s goal to shortly realize homo lumen;
Are we possibly on the long winding road to becoming superhuman?

No human experience can surpass our most sacred and holy function;
Mere friction cannot replace the mystery of the mystic conjunction.
Tentative signals formerly crossed now become highly convergent,
That most elusive of senses is now primary, charged and resurgent.
After such yearning for full baptism in that precipitated ablution,
You can’t fail to recognize filling up, becoming the ultimate solution.

Some say that the single light-filled eye is the strongest creative force,
Outranking privileged and intimate access freely granted, of course.
But light, rare innermost odors, or flavors can’t be kept sealed in a phial,
Let’s exchange molecules, bits of ourselves, not just light like a sundial.
Through our many senses all of nature’s given pleasures we imbibe,
The mysterious ode of the universe is thus not hard to hear or transcribe.

Learn to trust the process to find a way through the wilderness,
From psychosomatic distress to natural healing consciousness.
The nature of creativity reflected in fire, water, earth, and air,
Works together in the Journey with REM, to restructure and repair.
In stress, dis-ease, nightmares, and dreams we are drowned quite;
Entertaining consciousness dynamics find we dream not just at night.

The potentially healed structure is flowing silently in secret veins,
Realizing new perception and holistic healing can ease all pains.
Running the psyche’s rapids there is no need to withstand,
Like the snake eating its tail, flow with it to fully understand.
Synergetic imagination, vision and dreams help us enter the flow,
Visitations by Asklepios and Hygeia help us to heal and grow.

Immersion in the consciousness field is mentored by shaman/therapist,
Who guides and helps us to enter the fear and pain to de-stress.
Once entering that healing dreamstream with co-consciousness,
Let go and trust the navigating guide or mentor with emotional finesse.
In olden times creative consciousness appeared as a healing serpent,
The results today are the same when immersion in the field is fervent.

Escape the cage of perceptions, following leading strange attractors,
Journeying deeply ferrets out hidden variables and other factors.
The way was outlined in ancient Greece in the Asklepian cult,
Employing pilgrimage, purification and dreams to heal and exalt:
Close your eyes, breathe and relax, just fill your mind with a dream,
Walk through, going deeper now, notice and share what is supreme.

What’s happening is visceral and need not be at all logical,
Trust your imagination, feel your primal essence as literal.
Release and let go of old notions like a serpent sheds its skin,
Allowing whatever happens, nothing appears that won’t fit in.
Give in and accept those sensations, staying with it going deeper,
Even though it hurts or scares you, I’ll be with you as a waykeeper.

Stay with that energy just a little while longer and let it develop,
Become it, and in that fundamental image revel, and let it envelop.
Find the healing heart of the dream after the vicious maelstrom,
Through all the zones let those healing energies from within come.
It becomes part of you, cellular and genetic; take it in as new resource,
A renascent primal self-image forms, as a matter of natural course.

Creative consciousness may lead to reliving your conception,
With full awareness of the situation surrounding first penetration.
Some find within their journey a voyage to the reiteration of birth,
Imagery may inspire fear and terror of which there is no dirth.
Its OK to weep and wail and grieve, to let go finally and lament,
In the natural healing process it is creative, and not a detriment.

It may be alleged you exist and are therefore bad and stand accused,
Life may have buffeted you with insults which damaged and abused.
Perhaps you still feel cowed and suppressed, like a little child frail,
Out of control, depressed or rageful as those forces continue to assail.
Without intervention, symptoms and patterns persist and never rest,
All the unhealed traumas keep happening and perpetually molest.

The mentor or guide takes your lead and helps give the pain a face,
Expressing one’s weakness is safe now, and its appearance no disgrace.
Nearing the dis-ease structure, the memories and images are monstrous,
We are assailed by mighty natural forces, violent and truly furious.
But they only herald sensory memories of forthcoming dawning light,
Creative consciousness redesigns our core and brings welcome respite.

Your earliest formative conditions may indeed have been horrible,
Diving into the unknown territory may seem disorienting and terrible.
Deep knowing at the organismic level can alleviate that hollowness,
And salve the woundedness within that defended this wretchedness.
The journey moves through a spectrum of zones that leave you aghast, 
And at the most intense part of the catharsis may feel like a harsh blast.

The first steps of the journey, of course, begin with pilgrimage,
A visit to another world, sanctuary of a more primal healing village.
Identifying the problem, where you’ve missed the mark, is a confession,
This is a baby step in releasing what has harmed through its retention.
Bathing in spring waters and sweating for opening and purification,
Can bring a sense of the Holy Grail’s elixer that is a healing libation.

To secure the gifts of the gods, it is helpful to profer an offering,
Something of symbolic value to you which implies a sense of suffering.
Then comes the core of the process--the ritual of dream incubation,
That starts the alchemical process, leading to concentration or titration:
Through a quantum leap of consciousness restructuring and emanation,
Follow through close attention to the serpent’s rhythmic undulation.

Zone 1 includes behavior patterns, games, rackets and symptoms;
Zone 2 is the dance of emotions and thoughts that hold us victims.
Zone 3 is the region of adopted belief systems, largely unconscious,
Zone 4 is personal and transpersonal mythology, the collective in us.
Zone 5, quantum consciousness, edge of Creation, strange attractors,
Which draw us down to 6, blank mind of Chaos’ unknowable factors.

This is the most fundamental perception, healing restructuring energy,
A dwelling place like finding Home, open to life’s infinite possibility.
Find your sanctuary there, completely immersed in deep knowing,
Not needing even to recognize the healing seeds Chaos is sowing.
The river of consciousness dynamics is a stream that’s ever-flowing,
And the natural healing process can be visited by simply freely going.

Re-enter now, come back renewed, emerging from the crucible of chaos,
Self-organizing heals; those forces that assailed no longer betray us.
Flowing with it, we have liquified, dissolved in the universal solvent,
Restructuring echoes a holographic model of evolution’s involvement.
Changes are real and permanent and entail automatic integration,
And this whole-self healing has a by-product of spiritual elation.

Asklepios knew the inherent healing power contained within the dream,
Giving mankind a chaotic winding pathway to healing, serpentine.Learn to trust the process to find a way through the wilderness,
From psychosomatic distress to natural healing consciousness.
The nature of creativity reflected in fire, water, earth, and air,
Works together in the Journey with REM, to restructure and repair.
In stress, dis-ease, nightmares, and dreams we are drowned quite;
Entertaining consciousness dynamics find we dream not just at night.

The potentially healed structure is flowing silently in secret veins,
Realizing new perception and holistic healing can ease all pains.
Running the psyche’s rapids there is no need to withstand,
Like the snake eating its tail, flow with it to fully understand.
Synergetic imagination, vision and dreams help us enter the flow,
Visitations by Asklepios and Hygeia help us to heal and grow.

Immersion in the consciousness field is mentored by shaman/therapist,
Who guides and helps us to enter the fear and pain to de-stress.
Once entering that healing dreamstream with co-consciousness,
Let go and trust the navigating guide or mentor with emotional finesse.
In olden times creative consciousness appeared as a healing serpent,
The results today are the same when immersion in the field is fervent.

Escape the cage of perceptions, following leading strange attractors,
Journeying deeply ferrets out hidden variables and other factors.
The way was outlined in ancient Greece in the Asklepian cult,
Employing pilgrimage, purification and dreams to heal and exalt:
Close your eyes, breathe and relax, just fill your mind with a dream,
Walk through, going deeper now, notice and share what is supreme.

What’s happening is visceral and need not be at all logical,
Trust your imagination, feel your primal essence as literal.
Release and let go of old notions like a serpent sheds its skin,
Allowing whatever happens, nothing appears that won’t fit in.
Give in and accept those sensations, staying with it going deeper,
Even though it hurts or scares you, I’ll be with you as a waykeeper.

Stay with that energy just a little while longer and let it develop,
Become it, and in that fundamental image revel, and let it envelop.
Find the healing heart of the dream after the vicious maelstrom,
Through all the zones let those healing energies from within come.
It becomes part of you, cellular and genetic; take it in as new resource,
A renascent primal self-image forms, as a matter of natural course.

Creative consciousness may lead to reliving your conception,
With full awareness of the situation surrounding first penetration.
Some find within their journey a voyage to the reiteration of birth,
Imagery may inspire fear and terror of which there is no dirth.
Its OK to weep and wail and grieve, to let go finally and lament,
In the natural healing process it is creative, and not a detriment.

It may be alleged you exist and are therefore bad and stand accused,
Life may have buffeted you with insults which damaged and abused.
Perhaps you still feel cowed and suppressed, like a little child frail,
Out of control, depressed or rageful as those forces continue to assail.
Without intervention, symptoms and patterns persist and never rest,
All the unhealed traumas keep happening and perpetually molest.

The mentor or guide takes your lead and helps give the pain a face,
Expressing one’s weakness is safe now, and its appearance no disgrace.
Nearing the dis-ease structure, the memories and images are monstrous,
We are assailed by mighty natural forces, violent and truly furious.
But they only herald sensory memories of forthcoming dawning light,
Creative consciousness redesigns our core and brings welcome respite.

Your earliest formative conditions may indeed have been horrible,
Diving into the unknown territory may seem disorienting and terrible.
Deep knowing at the organismic level can alleviate that hollowness,
And salve the woundedness within that defended this wretchedness.
The journey moves through a spectrum of zones that leave you aghast, 
And at the most intense part of the catharsis may feel like a harsh blast.

The first steps of the journey, of course, begin with pilgrimage,
A visit to another world, sanctuary of a more primal healing village.
Identifying the problem, where you’ve missed the mark, is a confession,
This is a baby step in releasing what has harmed through its retention.
Bathing in spring waters and sweating for opening and purification,
Can bring a sense of the Holy Grail’s elixer that is a healing libation.

To secure the gifts of the gods, it is helpful to profer an offering,
Something of symbolic value to you which implies a sense of suffering.
Then comes the core of the process--the ritual of dream incubation,
That starts the alchemical process, leading to concentration or titration:
Through a quantum leap of consciousness restructuring and emanation,
Follow through close attention to the serpent’s rhythmic undulation.

Zone 1 includes behavior patterns, games, rackets and symptoms;
Zone 2 is the dance of emotions and thoughts that hold us victims.
Zone 3 is the region of adopted belief systems, largely unconscious,
Zone 4 is personal and transpersonal mythology, the collective in us.
Zone 5, quantum consciousness, edge of Creation, strange attractors,
Which draw us down to 6, blank mind of Chaos’ unknowable factors.

This is the most fundamental perception, healing restructuring energy,
A dwelling place like finding Home, open to life’s infinite possibility.
Find your sanctuary there, completely immersed in deep knowing,
Not needing even to recognize the healing seeds Chaos is sowing.
The river of consciousness dynamics is a stream that’s ever-flowing,
And the natural healing process can be visited by simply freely going.

Re-enter now, come back renewed, emerging from the crucible of chaos,
Self-organizing heals; those forces that assailed no longer betray us.
Flowing with it, we have liquified, dissolved in the universal solvent,
Restructuring echoes a holographic model of evolution’s involvement.
Changes are real and permanent and entail automatic integration,
And this whole-self healing has a by-product of spiritual elation.

Asklepios knew the inherent healing power contained within the dream,
Giving mankind a chaotic winding pathway to healing, serpentine.

“I will be what I will be what I will be” is the nature of our destiny;
A living singularity, though the laws of karma treat us indifferently.

When I becomes “we” no one need be amazed,
We have fused by the force, at one another gazed.
How long can you keep it there,
That loving look of a lingering stare?
It marks my soul, my golden warrior, sacramental,
And transforms me into the holy blossom temple.

There is never any need to be desolate or disconsolate,
Magnetism and charisma draw the temporary soul mate.
And while there is no dirth of hot-blooded sporting conquerors,
We must reject these unwelcomed advances of forlorn paramours.
In the sacred arena, some suitors seem emotionally confused or dazed,
Uncomprehending the nature of souls with serpentine bodies upraised.

Coiled silent and slumbering all this live long while,
That springing Cadeusus energy remained in enforced exile.
Now it can awaken, quiver, shiver and begin to advance,
The first glowing nexus it visits is that of the charmed lance.
There it ignites the veritable yearning of that thirsty blade,
Which must be quenched in cool water for homage to be made.

Being constantly true to oneself is the most authentic felicity,
Fidelity even with only splendid solitude keeping me company.
Sharper than a serpent’s tooth, no ambivalence or fickleness;
“Come and get it” or work out that proactivism you profess.
For that boon or gift we cannot find great enough recompense,
It is a grace and a blessing that only an ancient divine can dispense.

As our invocation builds, I feel your resolve become even firmer,
And we both surrender to the other and begin to softly murmur.
Chanting in a rhythmic tone and muttering words mystic,
We weave a circle around ourselves, of sacred words cabalistic.
Contained by that sacred cocoon we both utter a solemn oath,
To dedicate the creative results of love’s transcendental outgrowth.

There is no isolation; to this illumination always remain loyal,
Comprehending, pierced and transfixed, watching kundalini uncoil.
Send your whole mind deep into me like into a velvet-lined womb,
For only meeting me there can you truly be my bridegroom.
Sacred acts of love are so much more than sport or seduction,
They require a loosening of foundations for alchemical reduction.

Libido provides the energy for a dynamic psychic propulsive;
Shakes you to your very core, not merely physically convulsive.
That same energy causes sun, moon, and stars to illumine;
Nature’s oceanic lake of nectar is an intuitive source of acumen,
The enchantments of this art are not glamours of the conjurer,
But a purposefully artful act which leaves us spiritually purer.

Having tasted the phenomena of that most sumptuous bed,
For any who are denied it with compassion my heart bled.

FLESHED OUT

What was once non-existent can be instantly fleshed out:
Diving into the experiential stream is what life is all about.

Let’s discover beauty where no one thought to look,
In an indelible part of life’s texture, not found in a book.
Dynamic and lively, released from a pre-Raphaelite suspension,
Joys which flow from life’s embrace require barely a mention.

Eyes bright as solar flares, cheeks unprofaned by life’s lonely tears,
The chemistry of Virgin-flesh 4.0 all these wonderful things mirrors.
Taste my lips, grant me a boon from your vast repertoire of smiles,
Cast fate to the wind, love me recklessly in a myriad variety of styles.

There is nothing more solitary than an artist’s life;
In that life, only your arms are my solace from strife.
Thoughts of your cherished caress set my eyes a-twinkle,
A brilliant image of us lovelocked in a deep-time wrinkle.

Once having been there for you at your beckon call,
My wayward heart, deciding on its own, went AWOL.
Muscles continue to undulate with memories of which I often partake,
This state of the tantric art makes my yearning heart ache.

Melt me, like ginseng can warm a love life that’s dormant;
Even though the nature of sex can produce deepest torment.
That crucible tempers us, drenched in the moon’s dew, soma;
Blushing red, flush with love’s bloom, emitting a redolent aroma.

Fleshed out!  Take it anyway you can, based on an assumption,
We are totally ready to embrace love’s generous resumption.

QUANTUM TELEPORTATION

Can information travel faster than light?
Why not try it yourself, and take that flight?

We are all wavefronts in space;
Let’s spread out all over the place.
In the presence of Divine Grace,
Decode the revelation God has placed.

All things are naked and open,
Deciphered with a qabalistic token.
God has put His mark on my soul,
Direct experience of Divinity the mystical goal.

At the heart of the process is the Tree of Life,
Uniting spiritual husband, and mystical wife.
In the Eternal Now all of time is contained,
In this entanglement, Nothing excluded remained.

Like Babylon I ride a beast with seven heads;
Every one of them the slightest infringement dreads.
In the natural course of intimate negotiations,
Solutions can be virtually pictured by vivid imaginations.

We dream of “beaming” light through nonlocality,
And arriving instantly back in gross physicality.
Entanglement acting across large distances,
“Spooky action at a distance,” here and there instances.

How can this help us circumvent limitations?
Just take a close look at EM field oscillations.
The psychic intimacy of quantum entangled particles,
Supercedes that of purely material personal articles.

Wavelength filters all possible conditions of the entangled state,
Photon splitting reflects the vector of possible polarized fate.
To enter Eternity, simply erase the time information carried,
Piggybacked on photons, while we in the Void tarried.

Fait accompli!  Don’t violate my uncertainty principle, minisculely; 
You can’t measure my position and velocity simultaneously.
I consciously inhabit both the infinite world within, subatomic,
And imaginatively voyage the cosmic world without, astronomic.

PARALYZED WITH DELIGHT

In the aftermath of love, paralyzed with delight;
Satisfaction which looks, and sounds, and feels just right.
Intuitively we know when we’re right where we belong,
Because devotion and loving adoration is easy to prolong.
It informs us this dream of love is no mere dalliance,
For such intimacy need tolerate no greater audience.

We can simply let it happen in any time or place,
And create our own radiant flourescent space.
Each finding ourselves within the other’s loving gaze,
Together we plunge headlong into love’s deepest maze.
All you are tightly fits in the luminous glowing matrix,
Eyes defocusing as penetrating souls secretly intermix.

We merge together, not omiting the slightest detail,
Every angle and even points of view firmly dovetail.
Overwhelming energy building like tectonic strain,
Seeks relief in the drops of love that upon me rain.
Round upon round of soporific tones surround,
Resonating deep within the mythical underground.

The brilliant star of our love is the only one in sight,
We maintain our will to fuse completely, all else despite.
The power of a supernova we conjure, raise and wield,
To our mortal sensual preferences we willingly yield.
The instant nature of desirousness and natural rapport,
Leads us toward breathing deeply, gazing even more.

Upon me my lord rides like on a charging chariot,
For miles and miles through the desert, scorching hot.
Then pausing and resting atop some dusky dunes,
God comes to call, with my lover and I communes.
He says silently, “Come within my oasis garden,
Help yourself to its fruits; you need no pardon.”

From our garden’s fruits, expressing juice,
Kneaded and squeezed, its flowing forth truly profuse.
Expressing soul’s poetry sung in the heart unheard,
Now swiftly beating like the wings of a hummingbird.
Driven wild, with desirous pheromones redolent,
Simultaneously textured and smooth and succulent

Exuding a sweet liquid, thick and viscous,
Opening and flowering wide like a hibiscus.
Reflecting light through a transparent glisten,
Suddenly, to both sights and sounds we can listen.
As the royal couple, we mount our celestial throne,
Crystalline and delicate like a dandelion as yet unblown.

Hands-on multisensory exchanges energize,
Bursting from cocoons of sensory delight, we spiritualize.
The emotional challenge is to mutually permute,
And dissolving, merge together in the Absolute.
Hidden within sensory meaning is the secure basis,
For finding and returning to that heavenly oasis.

Drink the liquid grace flowing into that divine lagoon;
To our resonant timbre, cadence and pitch we atune.
rapport-rich, relaxed and relieved,
It’s even much better than we could have believed.
In the aftermath of love, paralyzed with delight;
Satisfaction which looks, and sounds, and feels just right.

SATISFICTION

When getting what you asked for isn’t getting what you want,
It may be worse than nothing, for it just continues to taunt.
“I don’t want what I can’t have,” may be just rationalization,
Simply another line or cover for an unalterable frustration.

When all the parts are there we perceive as satisfaction,
Still somehow something’s not right--call it satisfiction.
When all we desire or try results in karmic interdiction,
We find our will bound by our fate’s severe restriction.

Happy couples flirting, happy couples marrying;
Happy young couples, happy older couples tarrying.
Happy couples making pasta; happy couples on vacations,
Happy couples doing laundry, not-so-happy couples’ machinations.

All kinds of couples...mostly happy, but that’s just relative;
Doing all kinds of things to cement reality, make it celebrative.
But without certain knowledge which makes it complete,
The woes and joys of loving with such things are replete.

Primal yearning to ground the eternal soul and spirit,
Sometimes we come so near it, it’s palpable to revere it.
While for unconditional love we may all be longing,
In this world it’s impossible to find a spiritual belonging.

Without the right key, different facets of ourselves lie dormant,
But trying to “fit a square peg in a round hole” can only torment.
Settling for the wrong match can be an ongoing nightmare,
When there’s no relief by waking up, we’re better off solitaire.

Some relationships just lack a certain archetypal dimension,
Leaving vast voids which require filling with illusory invention.
The fact is we may not be ready, actually still in transition,
Many needs unknown to ourselves, hidden in guilt by omission.

Many lovers come complete with a hidden agenda struggle,
These healing fictions make our self-iimages, egos and eros juggle.
“Love at first sight,”commonly spoken of in the vernacular,
Is a danger-filled illusion that is nevertheless often spectacular.

Many matches aren’t meant to be any more than transitory,
The “transition person” as mere amorous fantasy repository.

Satisfiction -- 
Something's missin'...

DIAMONDS IN THE SAND

DAYS OF ETERNITY

I seek my shelter in eternity,
The embrace of divine maternity and paternity.
Wrapped in the enfolding arms of Elohim,
Gazing at the patient eyes of Her and Him.
My cup flows over its widening brim,
And on those oceanic waves I serenly swim.

Days of eternity...daze of eternity...
Locked enraptured by the gaze of eternity.
One eye the Sun, the other the Moon,
Mirroring the celestial order, playing in tune.
Spiritually rising to a temporary apogee,
My flagging spirit falls back down to perigee.

Trying again to take advantage of divine dispensation,
Mingling with the multitudinous heavenly delegation.
Warding off evil with vain rituals apotropaic,
Is only the remains of ceremonial crafts now archaic.
I seek merging with All, atonement or expiation,
“The Lord and I are One,” my mystical exhortation.

The Lord as the Sun is the fons et origo,
While I as “the Virgin” play Amazonian virago.
Together we meet in spiritual gamogenesis,
And through it rediscover our apotheosis.
What can be said of such a delicate epiphany,
While the music of the spheres plays eternal harmony?

This is much more than philosophical ideation,
Imagination can’t account for such vivid visualization.
Frozen as a living picture in a tableau vivant,
Liquified consciousness once dissolved is piquant.
No feigned apocryphal tale this, to the contrary,
This stone has been cut carefully by divine Lapidary.
I seek my shelter in eternity,
The embrace of divine maternity and paternity.
Wrapped in the enfolding arms of Elohim,
Gazing at the patient eyes of Her and Him.
My cup flows over its widening brim,
And on those oceanic waves I serenly swim.

Days of eternity...daze of eternity...
Locked enraptured by the gaze of eternity.
One eye the Sun, the other the Moon,
Mirroring the celestial order, playing in tune.
Spiritually rising to a temporary apogee,
My flagging spirit falls back down to perigee.

Trying again to take advantage of divine dispensation,
Mingling with the multitudinous heavenly delegation.
Warding off evil with vain rituals apotropaic,
Is only the remains of ceremonial crafts now archaic.
I seek merging with All, atonement or expiation,
“The Lord and I are One,” my mystical exhortation.

The Lord as the Sun is the fons et origo,
While I as “the Virgin” play Amazonian virago.
Together we meet in spiritual gamogenesis,
And through it rediscover our apotheosis.
What can be said of such a delicate epiphany,
While the music of the spheres plays eternal harmony?

This is much more than philosophical ideation,
Imagination can’t account for such vivid visualization.
Frozen as a living picture in a tableau vivant,
Liquified consciousness once dissolved is piquant.
No feigned apocryphal tale this, to the contrary,
This stone has been cut carefully by divine Lapidary.

ON THE FLY

We all know love is the basis of an ancient delerium,
Whose ultimate spiritual goal is a conjunctive mysterium.
On the fly, it strikes us like the fabled Serpent Queen,
Smitten by amorous prowess, entranced in a surreal dream.
Revelry reconciles the worlds, ideal and real, opening a labyrinth,
A cool breeze blows in across a waving field of golden amaranth.

The anatomy of lust speaks in full-bodied hieroglyphics,
A psychokinetic act culminating in luminous pyrotechnics.
In love, on the fly, there’s no turning back after the act;
We face love head-on and to its excitation fully react.
Lost in the delerious alliance of revealed innermost selves,
Infused with spirituality of a God who into our souls delves.

We are smugglers in the empire of love, stealing pagan transcendence,
Transmuting animal attraction into its alter, divine interdependence.
Carnal worship finds intimate expression in love’s tender alchemy,
Supplicants caught in the quicksand of love’s enslaving anarchy.
Demented passion, dramas of power, worship, exile, and reunion,
The lightning of rapture, converging in sheer abandon’s confusion.

It can be a fearsome journey toward extravagant obsessions,
Tantalized by the promise of sensory-melding cascades of sensations.
Just as “No poet can prevent his work from being used as magic,”*
No lovers can prevent what is wrought from being joyful or tragic.
Become the forceful wind--divine tornado--the widely open sky...
A cool river churning--the heart of the sun--within your arms I die.

A pearly mist arises and then saturates the earth with dew,
And gently envelops the whole of her being, sprouting anew.
Mutual love, pouring forth affection like a gushing mountain stream,
Rapidly moving through the changing phases of the ample moon.
Love’s lofty vocabulary, an ennobling force, phrases so supple;
On a pilgrimage of our own devising, we were born to couple.

*W. H. Auden

TOURNAMENT OF WILLS

We met in the emotional dark,
A first kiss in the evergreen park.
I surmised by your winsome smile,
It could potentially last a long while.
Longing for you a delicious prelude,
That adventurous souls could not elude.

It began with a blunt confessional,
Neither one of us behaving professional.
Soul-searching strong as a rogue wave,
And then your open hand to me you gave.
We found each other in the dark, empathetic;
Desire to become one with the beloved, sympathetic.

The underlying theme--beyond war--only polarities,
And sacred refuge from life’s unbearable vulgarities.
Willingly surrendering, wallowing in each other’s eyes,
In an engagement between lovers convention decries.
Thirsty for meaningful flirtation, intrigue, and flattery,
Novelty and danger as a tonic charging the battery.

The delerium of gorgeously unbearable longing,
Reveling in each other’s senses, rightly belonging.
Inexhaustibly mining each other’s emotions,
As surely as if we had exchanged magic love potions.
Steeped in our soul-searching senses, bouquets of adoration,
Protracted excitement, layer upon layer of fascination.

Seeking fulfillment in invisible intimacy paramount,
Subterranean instincts we explore then surmount.
Secretly longing for the bliss of mutual annihilation,
We settle for now with perpetual arousal, exhileration.
Swinging toward one another over a dark abyss,
Everything, even the power of love, evaporates in a kiss.

Quenching longing that sears and annihilates,
Taming intensely human tortured spirits.
Running full circuit, utterly available to whim,
Fathom the depths of love and deliciously dive in.
Euphoria in galaxies of scintillating diamonds,
Replenishment in mysterious, sacred glowing glances.

Our embodied passion feeds on hungry astonishment,
Momentum like a tidal wave rising to cresting moment.
Spirits aspiring to be more than whole--now limitless,
Always tasting Forever in that consummate celestial kiss.
Every deep breath of nature calms and naturally stills,
Then we return to mundane life--tournament of wills.

PRAYER OF GLORIOUS NOTHINGNESS