"the soup"

 

Questions of life

begin and end with answers

always structural foundations

lifeblood carpet

not always rolled out for royalty

rugs too often tattered

battered eyebrows

torn out eyelashes

where the salt of effort stings

instead of calming with tears

 

here we stand

on pedestals of fear

almost desperately clutching

to our champagne flashes

hoping to celebrate shared beliefs

yet too delicate to toast on today's streets

filled with evil eyes

jumping to conclusions

even about generational-gap fashions

so we are left staring at shallow insides

pasted from too many magazines

of what should or shouldn't be appealing,

so can thin be in yet still have meat

 

blood red meat eaten raw

of course organically certified

or could we be more exotic

sip

then swallow whole

eyeball soup

leftovers from aboriginals

those with the real tattoos

 

I want your eye

I want my eye

right here now

as real as humanly possible

 

I want blood

more than just taking off your cloths

or adam and eve dreams before figs leaves

take off your flesh

sacrifice the heart

like the Aztecs

your pulsating heart

in front of my face

so close

heat gives me the beat

so close I smell love

whether directed at me

your mother

father, children, or lover

 

so close you moisten my tongue

you reveal true feelings

not the telephone directory

or closet

I am calling for your essence

here and now

the ocean of your orgasm

your real dreams

those pure mountain streams

every momentary snowflakes

able to melt your heart

because heaven smiles

gifting an ambrosial mist

between our lips

 

this kiss is actual food

we can choose to be real

as honest as the sunburn

still able to give us paradise,

held hands

and climatic sunsets on the beach

 

or let's walk along soul street

instead of being ghosts

or hiding behind sensitive facades

while we try to stand by van gogh

each with our sunflowers,

instead of cutting off our ear

because we can't take what we hear

let's just clear the window

for inside light to shine through,

not in some age like aquarius

but my age

your age

every sheet of the tree

written in our book of life

whether terrible in our twos

risky at four and five

a doctor at six

or with a gray hair at thirteen

because adolescence is never clean

this flesh

this bone

this vein and artery can reflect

the heart of who we are

 

this is my I and your I

in the soup

circulating every current of life

 

together we can heal our ocean

filter unnecessary germs

yes

drink from eternal wells

our spring water

water in the eyes

eyes to bring fresh vision

of the way we can see

see this endless bounty

this purity stored through light

my light

your light

the stars that you know we are

so choose you stars

and live with the integrity

brightness requires

in its deepest night

 

what is right

is your eye

and my eye

with the tears

flowing as purified rivers

of love and compassion

so lets see what we can be

embodying the source of humanity.

 by Scot Aaron

 

 Back to the Poetry Page

Back to Scot Aaron's Homepage