Tag Archives: sin

untainted star

honest lines draw across her skin

but he can’t see with blood in his mouth

transmission continues

I read your code

pegged loosely

whipping in the breeze

making sin out of nothing

he stared at her from the cross

remain pure

she turned around and tapped her red heels three times

I don’t belong

I lost the virtuous thought I had a moment ago, I don’t have what it takes….

remain uninvolved then

he pointed his pointy finger

be clean

this glass is transparent, look through that, no good can come from the rose one

the rosey is pretentious

neither safe nor guiltless

beware of stains

stand tall

be upright he said shaking his bleeding head…

your hole has been pricked hasn’t it

no longer above suspicion

your female oozes from you

chastity was never your middle name

this is a CRIME

it is done

generations back by old men in sheets

and still you try so hard to live an exemplary life against ALL oddities

faultless free immaculate impeccable

you

he ate her with his eyes

resting floating bobbing in her own

……yes your pristine eyes, they fooled me

he stepped down one foot bearing 6 inch nail

I love your righteous gaze it spreads across my skin like wilderness

sinless exploration starts here

spotless fingertips prying into raw spaces following the light

to unblemished hopefulness

to incorruptible beginnings

to innoffensive life

that’s what you saw

that’s what he wanted

the truth

the unsullied

unimpeachable

tiny shine of untainted star

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more art at http://www.artofkundalini.com

Cider and Stars


My father’s teaching house was a wonderful, leaning thing,

thick with toxic fumes and creativity.

My school next door, however, an imposing beast.

A glutton for unhappy children and alcoholic ladies, with red front teeth and spanking on their minds…

After school dust followed me everywhere, sticking like an Australian summer.

My mind already in Dad’s art-house, anticipation mixing mud and colours!

Each day on my journey, I climbed the Moreton Bay Fig, to a birdhouse nestled in the wisest crook, to check inside for feathers.

I eagerly awaited a nest, a speckled egg or two, but always empty….still my imagination urged me on, a confident soldier!

This day I faced the tree in all it’s rough splendour and scuttled up, little skirt flying.

My leafy view was a spyhole and Dad an ant under my shiny brown gaze; my love rained silver on that world.

With reverent expectation, I lifted the lid of the bird-house, what to see?

A gleaming red thing, a glorious apple!

Bigger than the eggs I had imagined, with their wild gold shells, I needed two hands to carry this treasure!

So with an apple shaped package in my green school knickers,

I made my way to earth with a bite of magic that unveiled distinct possibilities.

The truth, I was Eve’s descendant, gifted forever with the return of sweet opportunity.

How I rejoiced in my blood globe token,

of knowledge,

of beautiful sin,

of pagan thrill

of paternal adoration

of connection to my god heart.

I was sure my father had put it there given as he was

to things that made you believe in something else.

His denial was fervent though and to this day,

so, unless his, is a 35 yr old secret,

I am the bearer of wizardry sweet and a calling so dear that my birdhouse remains to its brim, ever filled,

with sparkling cider and stars.