My Poetry - Eye of the Shaman
Eye of the Shaman
I have looked up the skirts of infinity
And death isn’t such a bad ass.
Oh, she’s hard, haggard and horrible
And within the lines on her face
Are all the mysteries of life.
But underneath, her skin is velvet;
So surprisingly soft, smooth and supple.
And like all the other whores of life
She will cower when confronted
She will spread her legs
She will arch her back and draw me into her
And I will pound her with my life
And she will whimper and shudder and come
And while she lies in a self-indulgent
Orgiastic heap, I will get up and walk away.
While on sleep sheets
Death slithered into me,
Took me and had his way with me.
But I am strong like the willow is strong;
I leaned into death, surrendered into darkness
And gave myself over to him
And went wafting up, up and away.
Death is a dumb fucker;
For even while he lies in
A disgusting refractory heap
I am nurturing the immortal
Seed of life within myself;
For my time is short
But the children
They are forever.
published in Hestia’s House 2003