POETRY

Long before your death,
not far from your birth,
you possess the borrowed gift of one breath.

From that moment forth,
you become the target of celestial deceit
in the hands of a sanctimonious fleet.

Do not concede this precious wreath
in fear of what may be underneath
or in the false hopes of jovial treat.

Drink fermented bile and
imbibe directly out of the vial.
Its salvation is real.

Prance around to madrigal
on mortals buried beneath the scarlet tile.

Decline Eucharist while in line.
Instead drown yourself in the wine
endowed in every cathedral by an imbecile.
Truth be told but not to revile:
Mullahs’ con of absolution is also vile, and
Cabala’s mysticism is a feeble trial.

Etched in your mind,
surging in your blood
is the call of the wild.

In the songs of birds,
in the howls of alley cats,
in the silent budding of daffodils,
in the soft trickles of dews,
is the temptation to seduce.

Heed a lover’s need;
Follow Casanova’s lead;
Surrender to sensual breed.
Corporal ecstasy is your only flee
from the con of self righteous creed.

Seek alabaster bosoms of a virtuous maiden
before the plot is over.
Nestle into the valorous arms of a gentleman:
Life is a taunting riddle.
Lose yourself in the cocoon of his chivalry;
Melt away under the weight of gallantry
before hades or nether.