VOLUME 8 TABLE OF CONTENTS


a white goddess poem...

OTHER SELF



A lover of lightning, thinking of her,

another person dancing the animal hide of me.

I feel my way back along a mere thread

alone in her tenderness when everything

is running along on the even edge,

as blue electrons roil across her skin

and nature's mirror darkly reflects a face within.

 

"You can't disguise your cauldrons of indigo;

you fill your dark corner again with secrecy

and that amber weirdness like a topaz,

a small stream through your quiet woods

the color of tea and afternoon behind shades.

A jagged piece of the night lurks in you

hung with dinner bells and shattering voices."

 

Resisting everyone's expectations,

brewing chamomile, tripping the grace notes

on our computer, how you fill me,

like a powerful cat exploiting her color

to use the night, that high-touch world

where people look inside themselves

for that extraordinary other brain.

 

Living beside me, sharing the breath of sleep;

its all about love force and moon shimmers

and memories of a world without end,

the only place that isn't a glass of ether

and radiant dark portals of information.

You make a magical language of thin whispers

willow streaming, beaked with nightingales.

 

Sleep has nothing to do with lining your nest,

the white silk horses thunder in your meadow,

the feather down is from a startled bird,

the future is rich and waxing... and you are wise.

A lover, thinking of her, dancing the animal hide,

mirrors blue electron nodes upon waking,

stumbles on the jawbones of poets.
 

 

ŠJimmy Warner Design, 2010