Monday, April 13, 2009

Love poem

Last night I was dreaming in blistering technicolor.
Except I was completely awake.
And I was half imagining it, but you were all enmeshed in my dream.
I felt like we were all part of a story that I was,
you know,
making up.
And this dream was monumental, resplendent with towers and minarets.
And lush, creeping tendrils, spilling into the Pacific.
And there were sunrises and sailboats and islands for days.

And I was precariously yet perfectly balanced, between the infinite heavens, and the absolute void.
You all were there with me, trying to strap on my wings.

Oh my goodness.

What a night.

It started in this labyrinthine old brothel. In Oakland. With this crazy bar.
And that place was exploded. With the most fantastical incredible people.
I'd set up this art thing, stashed in some nook.
It was alright. I can do better.
But I liked that you thought it was cool.
It's just this visual thing that shows your motion in color,
like all the tracers you all shoot off all the time.

Would you believe I thought I could break through the ceiling?
I thought I was this cyborg ninja Medusa made of kryptonite
with video eyes for snake hair.
And I knew the whole time I was totally. crazy.

I just couldn't help it.
I was in love.

The kind that's like. starbursts.
Big ones. Supernovas.
And every fleck of dust from that starburst
I could see each one in that vastness of space.

I mean, that shit was hyphy.
Straight blew off my pants.
There's this music, and it does this thing to me, just like
and then again, like
That shit was bananas.

But there were birds, too. I could hear their songs like raindrops. Or maybe butterfly wings.
And I realized what made it all happen was us all loving eachother, all the time.
I was bearing witness to our concurrent creation
as we put eachother together, piece by piece.

Yawn. Duh. We knew that.

But it's almost nicer sometimes to forget.
And then the moment all comes rushing back
like a tsunami of wet, gooey love.
Yes, I love you.
I try my best to love you all.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Mary,
    It was sooooo fun to follow your posts, and I can see that you are a true artist with your big eyes open. So many artists focus on their own arts without paying much attention to others' work (including myself). I've been feeling like I have to rush all the time to paint more and more as if I'm competing in a race. Reading your stories I really felt relaxed and recharged myself.
    Do you paint much these days too? or any art project? I was wishing to see more of your recent works.
    This is an amazing poem. I didn't know you were such a poet! I almost felt like I was in your dream flying across this cosmic universe you have described so vividly. I wouldn't want to wake up.
    Anyway, thank you so much for sharing not only your sensual experiences but also your thoughts and beliefs in all your previous posts. Looking forward to seeing more soon...
    Peter the artist.