Thursday, August 18, 2011

white smoke (painful tiara)

and out of her mouth comes all of the spirit
and smoke like white light 
making shadows on walls, 
walls yes to lean on for when she gets frightened... 
no need for fear, child...
but sense that forever
she's watching and waiting
and stroking your hair...

she sighs and it stops. 
cul de sac exhalation
in front of her lips
and yes, for they're open 
but not the same shape
as they were once before... 
breathe out round the t bar
the white smoke will squeeze round,
and get to the scent of the earth where he lies...

so breathe out to us here!

your breath can heal thousands
so you can't feel fear
throw your head straight back
don't let it hang down...
white smoke is dripping
down all the crowds' bodies... 
and you raise your hand
one more surging of joy.
their hearts open again to
this en masse communion
unfolding all lilies
to the prospect of gladness
in this sullied age

the other arm out
and your painful tiara
your love for them all
for you see them as clear

the world is within her
the world is without her
your plexus is open
to pillage or rape
your left foot en pointe now
it hurts like on nails
your right foot across it
you feel all our pain too
and as we watch all evil 
it's trickling all down you
it's water on oil
for it touches you not

you're all of our hope
and we've lost you, smoke spirit
and who will be here to
shine on when you're gone?
so breathe the smoke in us
and suck the smoke from us
a miracle swarming
and surging thru souls.
a beautiful light now
the high of a lifetime
we're filled up with love...

and still smoking, they
hoist you up on your cross.