Thursday, August 18, 2016

consummatum est (or, "...a mi madre") | a poem by a Faust




Consummatum Est
(...a mi madre)

May this -verse be neither ob- nor con- but, 'cross the uni-,  trans-;
A sword alike the Sonne, whose thorough penetrating fire,
to us two whom yet together trussed become as palms of Hands
that shadow dreaming memory the Moone reflects desire.

for behind all Love is Agency found secret, intertwined
far from distant landed gentle here by now a days' declared
to threaten promise both and each by each as some are minded
only with already having done that been and cared

like receivership Divine from which to benefit if needed
that because it is Divine gives no suspicion ground or reason
let not that language in which meaning must be clothéd to be heeded
be weaponized even as we find declared an open season

a palimpsest forensic revealing oft rescripted roles
words like the soul within us if they could ought not be sold