My Poetry

A Cry to Saint Paul

A Cry to Saint Paul
(Forms of Love)

I feel blue, Paul, unhappy and quite sad,
in the future, hopefully, quite happy.
The Present summons quite a rainy day.
I am looking for a sweet special home
where love is a sphere and is infinite.
It ends where it began --- at the center:
BANG! BANG! BANG!
blown in all directions: infinitely ---
the universe is a sphere. It explodes.


But hatred implodes --- all light causes cancer;
all darkness causes hypothermia.
Neutral Light --- White --- balances positives
with negatives. Zero is the formless
dimension. THAT plasma is the true divine blood:
true plasma, not like the quasi-plasma
we call water. Water is OUR life source.


Life is matter that sheds light on life.

An explosion does not produce a void,
subtraction creates void and a vacuum,
which, sucks out love and replaces eternity
with ending. There are seven forms of love
(maybe eight, maybe nine, maybe ten).
One love is blessing of everything;
another form is love of nothingness.

Jesus’ blood turned the cross to a rose ---
Peter's love turned the rose to a cross.

John Lennon dared us to "Imagine" peace:
Aeschylus said pain dripped and dropped wisdom
against our will with God's awesome will.
"My dear God, Robert Kennedy has been shot!"
MLK knew inverse operation:
disappointment, then sadness, then anger

then


LOSS


OF




control.
Subtract then add: pride, humility, love.
Hearts expand: control then out of control,
in every direction. Memphis Blues.
The pain is eternal, but it will end
where it began: infinite charity!


Love is a sphere, not a cube not a string.

Find a place to stand and you can move IT:
THE UNMOVABLE PRIME MOVER
this is why I keep shedding all these tears:
I want to go home, but I want to stay.
I love you so I let you go, but you
kill me with your subtraction; therefore I
punish you by keeping you with me, now.
Eternity is far too long to live.

But I love you so; I won't let you go ---
PLEASE DON'T GO!
But it is your choice: you'll choose to stay or go.

I feel blue, Paul, unhappy and quite sad.
I feel --- SOMETHING --- tell Lee I miss him, and
the rain will come because love still hurts me!


If I could only love only myself
I could have imploded and seen only
me, or I could explode, expand scatter
and find perfect freedom and perfect love.
Then, still, I would be unmoved and unloved
because I would be perfectly alone.

I am alone in the Sun; love moves me.
I feel colorful, Paul, happy and glad.
Tell Lee I miss him, and I feel sorry.

posted by RfrancisR @ 1:40 PM