This Kingdom His

Christ is lord of some invisible kingdom
undefined
unlimited
unknown
and here on earth he has no throne

our hearts
our temples
our seats are full
filled by him who has filled
the first vassaled ape heart
so long ago
with oily longing
for physical myth
and salivated its digging bit
to drill paths into the earth

into her
into us
into here
through the hearth
through the Vail of dirt

through caves and graves
toward swallowed fire
heat interred

a type
to show us to ingest the light

to ingest
not speak
the word

He has been here
teaching us to dance

teaching us to ache
and chase
this vaginal mystery into these woods

and burrow
beneath this tree and ground
and stay embraced

in she
the moon eyed earth

looking in on itself
looking in on us
her fractured face

filling her cup
filling her purse

with new lives
betrothed to this place

she takes all suitors home
and keeps them there
whispering to their ghosts
stay here

when you have died
when your body is loam

turn over in the day
turn over in this bed
in this grave face down in me
whom you have bled

whom you have drunken
now I drink thee
to make a sacrament of eachother
blessed by he

A king to keep us free from free

who has atoned each hour
for our disbelief
in the concreteness of the world
of faith; a thief

in shifting stones
that glow
beneath

eaten by this kingdom his

a glowing core of molten gold
the shallow center of our home
from which he speaks
to us

from which he fills the cockled mold
with liquids of here and now

and cordial smiles his warm girls head
yet intertwined discrete he spreads
his old ser-pented body
black,
jeweled,
and cold

from which these gems we cannot pry
without his coils taking hold

-Apesblood

Twin Pedestals

I had a vision of you
You kept in the middle
In a flooded museum
Afraid of a black and a white pedestal
Polar beasts on each side of the hall
Iconoclast that you were
You prayed for their fall
(To whom?)
Into the water that swept you past
Freed from their whispering
to your graviton ballast
Your semi-sinking heart
Your human part
Be it body and soul
Unrefined in refined
Sand in glass to be cleft
To be torn apart
Divided you sank
As a son of the water
Ill composed for the kingdoms
Of your brother or Father

-Apesblood

Ivory Tusk

As with his ivory tusk
His padded cup
Extent in court
With rank to sup
To gouge and gorge
In leafy minstrels pants
To org and porg
With talkish bodied chants
The sweat that wets the shapes to talk
The moat of wine on which he walks
Around the castle walls,
the bard in stocks
A floating feast among a sunken flock
All eyes in mounds with pattering hands
vacated use of pearls from clams
Unyoked by sun or wedding bands
A fallow paunch of soft skinned plans
A script for latent heat
In changing hers to mine
Erupting she to he
In whipping plow strung kine

-Apesblood

Modern Love

I am a vulgar nude
for violent things-
I'm told she wants me to-
Let her body construe
Aggressed vestigial thrusting
at my undesires
Hollowing a room for laquer faced buyers
To keep their natal eyes
Watching unlifes choked misfires
This incipient
flipping
sputtering
dog
Unable to materialize
Sick
Thin
Not real enough to starve
Not strong enough to carve
Out a hole to let down
Its milky well bucket heart
And take up clairvoyant maternities
Claire de lune
Reflected Light of eternities
Paved over
When nothing kind you expect to see
Paved over
the moon
Paved over
the push and pull on amniotic seas
Paved over
Bereft acclivity
Paved over
The waking pool of humanity

-Apesblood

Golden Lox

Black Incantation
The thrill of expansion
In shrinking seen
In augmentation

Ingesting rich blood
I fear no corruption
But awake at night
With terror castration

into the body less changeless
Octane precious
French wish list

In pulses I claim this
Fills my heart fluid faceless

On fulcrumed kindness
breaking baseless
Am I servant among you?
Am I Chiefest?
Am I famous?

All aux
All faux
All pocked and pox
Ill wed and bred with golden lox

I cried
denied
And crewed the cocks
The moorning loose
down at the docks

Was it drowned
When found
or bon voyage
abattoir
Or bright ménage

Make room to spark
And flood the ark
With butcherslop
and menopause

The skins for cloaks
The pricks for pokes
The flesh and bones for camouflage

More resolute in chemicals
Than all God's great bovine mirage

-Apesblood

Enoch

From the balcony above the barn
I can see
At night when white
Muscles grown taught
look so ghostly-real and bold
I hear it clopping
As it comes to the trough
To drink
A horse is a real thing which men ride upon
This one has run
down newborn calves
To kill them,
maybe sport, maybe malice
Maybe at night it thinks about chasing down things that it can kill
as it drinks
And looks around when it wakes
Each day
And maybe once every few years its insides lurch
when it sees one
Trying to stand there
Shaking wet near the afterbirth
And falling down
it thinks it will chase it away
from its four legged dog tired mother either way
And stamp it into the ground
Like it has on four occasions that I know of
The horse is named Enoch
It knows death intimately
And has never fathered anything
It stands over the trough with its nose in the water
And thinks about birth and death
And running to meet them both
-Apesblood

Fort drum, black river dam

On the old bridge
On the old dam
A sinuous way to the top
Pushing upward legs
Pushing downward arms
Finding Olympian rings of Iron
Thick enough around for the strength of the palms of a man
Their centers could not hold
But these wheels remain affixed on shafts as ornaments
Like tarnished golden hoops hanging from the dams head,
addressing some feminine convention
some maturing expectation
fenced away from the men at the fort
the dam has become a woman as it has aged
Something you rise upon and stride atop of
Looking for origins
Looking for a birth
Looking for the charm of its structure
Looking for a way inside
Water rushing beside
And undercutting the banks
A woman grown tired beside the disinterests of the soldiers
Waiting in the shadows beside the occupation
Dignified in her decay with bright hardening eyes
When we found her, she was something illuminating
next to the lusterless opacity of the fort
-Apesblood

Dress up

Electric room and the moon
And I still want her
made a mistake, Kissed a snake
When I forgot her
We dressed up as ghosts to hide our respective shame
Cutting holes for just our eyes in the sheets
(Thin sheets, borrowed sheets, warm sheets,--- something with the sheets)
I only recall the first ones name
But remember how her clothes changed
She had made herself relevant again
Her body more thin and estranged
Her wrists, her neck, her ankles
Strange jewelry
Charms to ward me off
Misshapen eroticism in her cough
Thin collegiate cruelty
In all this:

She, the indemnity
-Apesblood

ex nihilo/hooker

Speaking with the inter-special language of emotional response to shape:
A woman hiding half her face
looking down through the glass from a high place
"In creating yourself interpret the other scape "
Bilateral symmetry
Half you half me
Formed spreading left and right
Drawn upright by the light
Vertical by day
Horizontal by night

Half of my sight
Half enthralled
One red rear light
One eye encircled

Thin are the formalities of reality
Living gloriously
Glorious violence
Glorious copulations
Glorious, but no such thing as free
-Apesblood

Them I see

Out through the window
To the moving trees
Son of man, son of God
Them I see
Away in the corner where she sits
Away from my clipped interactions
With what's in front of me
Son of man, son of God
Her I see
Muted by this days opacity
Bright past, grey future
Through a glass darkly
Son of man, son of God
In my body I see
Off the table and on the floor
Placed there by someone other than me
An object irrelevant tossed irreverently
Son of man, son of God
It I see
Yoked and staring crucifixedly
earth upturned
She bled copiously
The burden of her body carried lightly
Son of Man, son of God
Now I see
-Apesblood

Jeanne

Your picture
You in effigy
Black and White
Serene and Ghostly-because I could swear it moves quietly and smiles
Your image
You as a younger women
Crowded among the ornaments
Proportioned beside the golden pillar of a candlestick where you have already ascended in this room
Perched on a clean high shelf with lamp light and silken flowers
From here your picture can see the whole room
The floor and the ceiling
The darkened corners
The bedroom door swung wide
The white walls and figurines
You smile at me and at yourself,
the body that keeps you grounded in its wet snorkeled breathing
The metal on your bed catching light and glowing, like an Elvin blade in warning
All of the things that you have brought home from places you've been are kind and smile upon you
You chose kind things, and you placed them there on the shelves and on the walls with your hands
You ordained them, they will perform a work of objectified remembrance when you leave,
But they will fall short in holding your memory as they fell short of distilling the richness of the places from which they came
They will fail you
But now, they are vigilant and blessed disciples that open there eyes wide as your family around you, sleeps, in a darkening garden, while you atone for having lived
-Apesblood

In a Car

Time is the length in the stride of the animal
A startling new ethic in each existence of speed
A brave new morality for the machine
A cautionless myth for the immortal
In a car I do not fear distance or dimension
Glass eyes shine expulsive quite and external
Taking nothing in, having nothing to reveal
but the moment of physical uncertainty just beyond its beams
Where it catches the dark unawares and drags its body willfully forward
Having traded its powers of comprehension to stare eternally and unblinkingly outward
As seer and revelator of the inches ahead
Things are delineated and illuminated
The lamp lights the attainable, alterable, replaceable stars,
Are secured to the earth and fed through wires
With the illusionary, functional, and limited charm,
existing in all things so singularly contrived
-Apesblood

Lava Soft

Above; imprisoned and free
The stilled exploding head of a bronzed horse releasing its light
Just out of reach
And bleeding for me
It spins like a toy to reveal its insides
And sprays its color
A God I created
We worship each other
Receive and believe
Receive and believe
If I built it and filled it, can it fill me?
into the fissure with the Golden calf
I followed it there and I carried it back
A lava soft landing
Oh Moses and Aaron
What do we do while your on the mountain?
A sculptor to tithe and compile precious things
The interlocking of golden rings
To make a mail to protect us from our poverty
In the desert imprisoned and free
-Apesblood