Chaldean Numerology on St Valentine's day
Douleurs without zeal,
the heaviness of grief
An abiding agony
like Christ's crucifixion
an otherness
that plants a rich want in me.
In your heart mourning comes by nature,
naturally you endure
which tells me: an interior burial
has taken place.
Lilies and white lace.
Can you tell a grieving mother
life is a many-splendid thing?
Yes. I said it to another, my mother:
feel the beginning of the splendour
of spring!
Unknown assailants conspire
as we sit beside winter fires:
Russian gas, China virus,
hoky-poky in various quarters
I literally do not care
carelessness,
a gentility of judgement,
assists me to survive
eyes reflected in eyes.
So far, the human world
seeks
to intimidate the broken,
the unassuming, the shy
and the unloved.
Be big. Be bad. Be sad.
Be handsome. Be pretty
live for a day in New York city.
You make me equal
with everyone alive.
I do not have the Midas touch
nor am I the saddest
of the alchemists;
I am a reverse alchemist
sometimes turning heaven into hell,
chance into fate, early into far too late.
Nothing about gold or money
or class or prestige
or power or privilege
or genetic advantages.
No. On this heavenly highway
I will seek to build
a temple to love from straw and wattle.
the heaviness of grief
An abiding agony
like Christ's crucifixion
an otherness
that plants a rich want in me.
In your heart mourning comes by nature,
naturally you endure
which tells me: an interior burial
has taken place.
Lilies and white lace.
Can you tell a grieving mother
life is a many-splendid thing?
Yes. I said it to another, my mother:
feel the beginning of the splendour
of spring!
Unknown assailants conspire
as we sit beside winter fires:
Russian gas, China virus,
hoky-poky in various quarters
I literally do not care
carelessness,
a gentility of judgement,
assists me to survive
eyes reflected in eyes.
So far, the human world
seeks
to intimidate the broken,
the unassuming, the shy
and the unloved.
Be big. Be bad. Be sad.
Be handsome. Be pretty
live for a day in New York city.
You make me equal
with everyone alive.
I do not have the Midas touch
nor am I the saddest
of the alchemists;
I am a reverse alchemist
sometimes turning heaven into hell,
chance into fate, early into far too late.
Nothing about gold or money
or class or prestige
or power or privilege
or genetic advantages.
No. On this heavenly highway
I will seek to build
a temple to love from straw and wattle.
