Sunday, August 14, 2005

In The Temple of My Heart

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Longing to culitvate the luminous numinous in my life,
I speak to the mute angels who populate dark matter,
invisible to me; I open my eyes as if underwater, against
the weight, against the sharp sting of salt, and peer
into a muddled kalidescope of colored lights and
incandescent shadows hoping to see the face of that
which gazes at me always yet remains unseen.

For, I suppose, my own good.

For will not the slightest glimpse spell doom
for my own synaptic dancing angels? Will
they not instantly fly home, like seeking like, leaving
me a massless particle of infinite volume, destroying me,
turning me into the limitless and featureless
thing I seek?

I dare not blink.


Blogger netinous said...

Damn. You have a way, at times, of punching right at things I've groped around and (dis?)stilling in words that which is too quick for me to notate. Encompassing.

thanks again

1:53 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Hey, Meth-


I like punching things.



3:53 PM  
Blogger LKD said...

Yikes, talk about graceless segueways. I was reading about your mute angels just now and my damned cat (sigh) began crying for no reason (I think he's in love with the sound of his own voice) and right in the middle of this angelic post of yours, I turned around and said in a too loud voice: Shut the fuck up. I hate that those two worlds can exist in the same time/space, your angels and my cussing. (smile)

This post made me think of the movie I watched last night, Constantine, with Keanu Reeves. Got ripped to pieces by the critics, but really, it wasn't that bad at all. It was about god and the devil fighting it out for every soul via angels and demons roaming among the humans. The movie ends with the angel Gabriel attempting to help birth the son of Lucifer, an effort interupted by the devil himself. Gabriel loses his/her wings (portrayed by the actress who did such a standout job in one of the best movies I've ever seen called Orlando which was based on a story by Virginia Woolf) via fire. The image of an angel with charred stumps where wings once were is one I will carry with me for a long long time.

Do you believe in angels? Human or unhuman? I've been lucky enough a few human angels come into my life, people who loved me unconditionally and accepted me in all my awfulness and wanted only good for me. And, when I was a little girl, I saw my guardian angel hovering over me one night when I woke up from a nightmare. Imagine the most beautiful woman or thing you have ever seen and you still cannot come close to her beauty, to the light that radiated from her.

10:33 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

I believe in all of it, Laurel. Angels especially. I was most moved by the image in the movie when the crazy-eyed priest went down in the liquor store and that oriental employee kneeled down over him as the 'dark angel' was fast approaching...the little oriental guy looked up and then

flexed, opened up his wings, spread them out! protecting the fallen man...

That did it for me.

I've yet to see one. You hold tight to yours, Laurel. I mean it.



6:19 AM  
Blogger Jill said...

scott, it is a poem like this, in its wisdom, in its essence that keeps me coming back to your work. You never fail to amaze...Thanks.

3:35 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


Well. That's a pretty damn wonderful thing to say.

You may keep returning. (wink.)

Thanks, Jill. You made my day.



6:30 AM  

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