and a wild capitulation,
to explore, define and fathom
ancient depths of life and death.
A steel core in velvet lining,
that is always softly pining,
for truth and understanding of worlds
beyond my last and final breath.
A Master of the Dance,
of sexual mystery and chance,
filled to overflowing with desire
to deeply drink the soul.
Endless passion, swift and steep,
A raging, rushing river deep,
that defies imagination,
and just barely held in control.
The ability to soar,
and to forever reach for more,
Raw,thrumming power to ascend
to heights no one has ever been.
Scarred from battles of the past,
and from things too good to last,
The paths I choose have always
been the ones less seen.
A haunted, hunting beast,
stalking the ever-elusive feast
of knowledge glimpsed by mortals
only rarely in this life.
On the quest to find but one,
who understands, but does not shun,
the soul I offer up so freely,
always stabbed by the hidden knife.
Yet, once I give the truth of being,
it seems to always send them fleeing
for the safety of ignorance behind
their well-constructed masks.
A steadfast, but lonely tower,
that will weather every hour
of suffering, tears and sorrow
as a mountain bears a storm.
A retreat of solitude,
that’s been broken, patched and glued,
and made stronger with the mortar
of emotion, pain and dreams.
It’s been battered, beaten down,
but ever rises from the ground
like a phoenix that flares bright
with flames of hope and triumphant screams.
An artistic, creative inner eye,
that always seeks the reasons “why”
and never seems to find a good
answer to the question.
With a razor-sharp perception,
it penetrates the best deception,
for it counsels me to listen,
watch and learn.
An honest, passionate soul,
seeking the part to complete the whole,
Wondering if the piece is only
in my imagination.
So, to you, I say, “My friend…
if you have grasped this to its end,
then perhaps you have a hint
of who it is I truly am.”
You see, this poem is “liquid soul”,
and in reading it you now hold
a gift I give to precious few,
and that even fewer understand…..
~ C.L.R. ~ © 2003