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your beauty is intoxicating

i cant get enough of you but when your twenty miles away your just a platonic love

the ink leads us to the book

sometimes i ride the seventh wave of love

i put the spectsculars oasis in the interlunar space

we are just burning flesh and blood

a veil that comes between me and the mountain or the birds

the best visions

interesting alegories of platinum

what of his workings, emblems of his faith

compounded by what

the interior

our palace of love

foam

hate

love

i love the birds

the multicoloured ones

there freedom explains the lost world of our harvest

the theatre

non being verses being never affected like water of a ducks back

affect sEnsitivity to affection,

effect,

cause, begining of experiment

reaction

i am the key to this abbyss

i dance upon the wave

of passion and desire for celebration of haleluyahs to the muse

of joys that overspill

your jeweled cup


dance in front of the love god

the perfect bliss

the stars are bright not dim, out of controll

love is out of controll like the wind, escaping the prison

there are jewels in the cup, but look at the brim whist drinking

the wind told it to the forest, the forest told it to a lake, the lake told it to the cave, that told it to the snowdrift who told it to the valley, who told it to the to the mountain.

on the ocean there is an altar that falls that says it to a lake that rises.

is there nothing to inspire, send the senses reeling

stirr the passion

lifes sprk degenerating to an epitaph i confess i did seitze thmoment

my soul was ravished by hercharms, whipedinto a trance

whatever cosumes my desires

watever



everything that is not luke warm
so are we

to surf the foam

your neck of sand

stands in front of gods

the stars seem to be dimming, ignoring the dance along the path to utopia.

this inevitable decent from paradise

this fusion with god
this desiduous offence to our efimeral souls

what form are we looking at

yhe form of your waist

the waste of time

visible only to the discerning
the exploits of the universe are
your wasted years

our relative value is unbalanced with passion sometimes

but science foams unapolageticaly reminding us of the transitory

bodies lost in the universewhose direction

is nul and violently ardent

our everlasting love depends on our position in andromeda


my concience of him is paramount

he is a mountain

or a sea


i feel him intimately
who wants to be near the acropolis
camon girl

lets go all the way and it this way

atoms and no fusion

no golden staircase to your bower

and the tree has roots

although its branches reach freedom

of the birds

that see the many flowers that speak bewitching the sight

of the light

Submitted: Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Edited: Thursday, January 30, 2014


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Comments about this poem (i love walking through the green valley, folowing the stream that flows to the sea where the red fishes swim to jthe purple coral reefs of the tropics... by cristobal Benjumea )

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