Skip to main content

...Beneath My Feet


I found Love beneath my feet.

I dreamed I stood upon her neck and she was wheezing from my footprint, my thanklessness, my pride swollen, my desire to own her.

I found Love beneath my feet.

She asks that we end our parade of her, our pageant that mocks her grandeur, her love, her authority- The shocks went down my neck, they sent their waves into my belief. It floated freely for what seemed like days, it sent me earthward and greeted me with kisses, then slammed me down! She unpainted my portrait and woke me up to say, I love you. I love you. I love you. Love chants her will in the wind, her desire washing up on the shores, her love serenading us with Her Majesty.

I found Love beneath my feet.

Go, tell your sons and daughters to look beneath them, then bow.


© 2011 by mark prime
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
1 comment
read the poem

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem