A Birthday Greeting, from Berlin to San Anselmo

An' if I do reach eight-score in Years

as is my Will, God will't e'en so,

on thy Breast I'll shed no less the Tears

for Love, which stay'th undiminish'd – know,

that if thou likewise give no Way to Time,

Sporana's flow unbroken through our very Limbs:

this very Lingam shall that very Mouth sublime

and that graced Yoni, still service with Light undimm'd.

Thy Birthday sacred in my Heart's Rememb'ring,

with Vigor's own Wisdom shall many more yet be;

e'er green, the Sap in this Tree for Lovemaking

shall e'er firm and whole indeed be spared for thee.

No Time's Ravage, no Years laid waste, but rather:

increaseth ever new this Love conscious, Tina-Benson . . .

to timeless' bathe with you, and cover you in Lather

by Light of countless Birthday-Candles, fulfill this Passion!

Sonnet to Catherine the Great

We all pretty much know about Catherine the Great and horses, right? She was into 'em and more exactly, liked havin' 'em in her. Or so we'd learned in high school Russian History. And I have come across coroboration but never heard or read anything which challenged or contradicted this, On checking up on her death, I once read „apoplexy,“ but this would adequately provide a respectable cover to what my high school teacher told us, namely that the chains broke and she was crushed. Roger that – now fast-forward about 12 years to one of my poetics courses at Naropa in Boulder, after having the honor of being instructed and guided by Allen Ginsberg and Pat Donovan, I now had the pleasure of being inspired by Larry Fagin (Don't know them? Don't worry.) One day he told us to go home and write “an animal sonnet“ for the next day. He didn't explain what he meant by that, no one asked, and no one did it, except me. I knew what damned sonnet was, but – animal? I could only arrive at one thing, and one thing only – and I arrived at it pretty goddamn fast and got to work on it – in about 10 minutes flat I had it. Handed it in, never heard a word. But it went exactly like this:

SONNET

ON THE REMARKABLE DEMISE OF CATHERINE THE GREAT

IN HER BOUDOIR
(Boulder, 1984)

Your swaying hips inspired her desire;

And O, such mane! Who was your noble sire?

The light which flicker'd off your bestial skin

Once lit the regal eye to conscience sin . . .

Your muzzle for to fondle tète-à-tète -

To breathe in, ah! That musk all night and day!

“O come my equine lover, tarry not . . .

“Nor yet deny me whilst my passion's hot! . . .“

No Russian prince came close to match your gait,

For one tail's sweep she'd grant you her estate.

Small wonder how you won the heart of Kate,

Small wonder she'd attain'd the name of “Great“:

'Twas no small feat by which she met her fate,

Indeed 'twas hooves and all your handsome weight.

Most intimate beauty . . .

 
The most intimate beauty resides in my heart,

annihilating me, dismembering the organs of separateness.

I love with the full length of my body,

with a still mind and a free heart.

Passionately I live, the passions only garments.

One desire remains,

toward this beauty residing in my heart,

annihilating me.

(Monterey, ca. 1987)

Lover Addresses Beloved

Many are my sins, I stand empty and unprepared before my Lord.

Few if any are my redeeming virtues, on whose scale shall I measure?

Yet with the breadth of my heart and the focused passion of my soul,

for you, my beloved, I would cover you and stand by you,

argue on your behalf spanning a thousand lifetimes of sins,

with a prayer, a word, an action, unto my last breath, 

hold your hand preciously in my hand

and walk with you into perfect union, praising God.