Mute God's Torpor

I think about all that I don't understand about sex

from its venomous withholding to its fountainous lure
I think I'll make a list:

whispers whistling as the thrush,  

the roseate hue

soft curves tautened

corrugated heart beat

foul nethers, 

the addictive acridness of your beloved's smell

the fightin' urge to assert my own primacy

coarser sublunary trivialities

mute god's torpor

longeurs and mundanities, 

penetrating the musty concave fibers of distant galaxies

disconsolate blue after

wan remnants

In short

we screwed and then chatted 

disinterestedly
retired to our separate corners of the ring
to replenish and satiate our thirsts
for reddit and for tiktok

respectively

I thought

Why write a poem?  There are loads of poems
shelves sagging from the unread weight of them

I think I'll make another list:

because that folk singer died and I can't remember his name

so much to say 'bout

yr aunt's vacations, slavic ant vocations

heaven extends even unto the transactional sphere of corporations

because all I have left of my grandfather are his poems

wasps hum, roosters crow,

My folks are gone

my kids are gone

the stars remain

through these barren trees

Forge

"We drink our wine and wonder. Why we're really here..."
-Republic Tigers

Dark and cold= Bad. Hard. Dead?
Dark and hot= Good. Gross. Sexy?

Curious how the word DARK when appellated by a temperate adjective can change meanings completely. I've been thinking about swords, actually: So tall strong, bright, cold and sharp. They started out molten, dark in a forge, almost aqueous, hot and malleable.

Durability comes at a price. We tend to percieve that things forged in Darkness will be stronger and brighter in the light, like McCain soldiers, characters of integrity shaped under the dark oppression of the battlefield. And really we are all forged somewhere dark and hot, what else is sex-- pounding the hammer into the gooey immaterial life-giving fire womb.

Haha! I get too poetic in the mornings.

Remember to hold onto something dark and warm at your center. Sure, be cold and unflinching as your reach unto the stars, but unless you've got something dark and warm at your core, like any brittle sword or dying tree, you'll break in the wind.