Madonna and the Whore

You shaped me out of the white marble
That embellished the pavement you were stepping on
And unaware of such self-involved objectifications,
You then pressed it to the ground and walked on.

Constructed in the dark corners of your imagination,
The sculpture came into being
With a life of its own,
But of your very own design.

You did not see the woman hiding in the depths of her horizons 
Nor could you see the child who was scared and crying;
Appearance was what coloured your perspectives
While you tentatively tapped in just beneath the surface of your feelings.

You painted out a silhouette that belonged to a Madonna,
If there was more to it,
Oblivious, you didn't know it;

And oh, the Madonna was in fact a whore.

Little did you know
The whore was made 
Of Light and Shadow
Beams of hope and sheer delight
Reflected on the surface
Of the calm nature of the Human Spirit.

Dry and solid; raw and bleeding

This cartilage of pain

Was cradling inside

A spiral of darkness

Out of space and of time.

It had come back to haunt me

So I went into the tunnel

Following it.

It felt dry and solid,

Yet it was raw and bleeding.

The tears came down my face,

Yet still flooded my inside

With toxic fumes of

Inextricable proportions.

I aired the room

And pretended my breath was that of a living creature.

Little did I know what it meant.

When I went into the tunnel,

I wasn’t meant to come back.

I rather would have stayed

But the light disappeared

And sent me back to a

Miserable life

Of karmic disproportion in a cosmic game.

In the places I’ve been trying to avoid it the most…

I’ve been trying to run away from my life

But it’s found me where I’ve been trying to avoid it the most;

In places of the heart longing to be forgotten,

Where the will does not go, for it has no will at all.

I’ve been trying to fast from difficult emotions

And see radiance in other people’s faces;

I have hidden my own in the veil of Sorrow

belonging to the world itself.

I’ve been trying to hide deep within my heart,

Which closed fully at my entering it.

I could feel it could not really contain me,

For only my body of fear alone was enormous.

And then I had a body of desire, one of rage, one of anxiety and one of lust;

All waiting to be contained.

As a result, my heart went on strike

And stopped beating.

Seconds later, my long, deep breath brought it back to life.

And that is how life found me in the places I’ve been trying to avoid it the most.

Longing

Oh, you fiery longing,

Where do you start and where would you stop?

I am chained by your embrace

And you are too far outside of me...

I am longing to have you back inside of me,

You, longing...

Outside is too far away and I cannot reach the unreachable...

I have seen projections of my love

On all the trees of life itself,

Yet I cannot find my way

Indoors, in the heart of the path...

The heart is soft and tender...

Maybe I can gather myself

By pulling fragments of my self together.

But then, oh, there's nothing there...

Nothing to gather.

It was all an illusion.

Including the longing.

The truth

You were sitting there in that chair,

Which told a thousand stories,

I looked at you and knew that

You contained a pain I was much familiar with.

My eyes teared as I looked at you and this pain;

My pain.

A hundred layers of sorrow

And my eyes were mourning.

I thought I would feel the anger

I have been showing the world

Since the day you left.

Instead I felt pity.

Which turned into compassion,

When lightly touched by the feather of a kindred spirit.

You spoke no more than a few words

Covered in numbness.

I played the merry woman

Who forgot all about you.

And thus I spoke the Truth.

Unforgetfulness

There was a dark, bitter afternoon,

When things  made sense,

 In a more or less attuned atmosphere,

With flavours of raw loneliness and pure emptiness.

And then You came…

Tumultuous and passionately flavoured

Unbearably intimate

With eyes that gazed inside my soul, from within my soul itself.

Pure transparency

In darkness of the darkest shade.

Reorganised

To fit the past and present.

I broke my heart wide open,

And allowed my innocence to be poured through;

We went back and forth,

In the temple of time.

The present sat still,

As we travelled within,

Organically unfolding

The mystery of space.

We risked it all.

And then you uttered something

Which sounded much like a manifesto;

Something I did not really hear--

You said you needed to go back.

And I for one, I needed only breath,

But held my breath instead

And did not feel a thing.

Later it hurt…

I needed to go back as well.

But to a place of unforgetfulness,

Where your smile has no longer a hold on me

And your caresses lose their weight

Bringing on oblivion.