The Game of Love

This was written in the mid 1980's [like yesterday's entry] for a someone who was a friend who I wanted to get to know better... It never happened... worse things did.

You play the hand you are dealt... then read 'em and weep... or if you are lucky collect the pot and cash out while you luck holds.

This was conceived of as a "fifties Jerry Lee Lewis  / Elvis Presley" kinda track.

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The Game of Love

Heart break is an easy game to play
just close you eyes and hope slips away
Still I'd like to know your name
And just how to play the game

CHORUS:
The Game of Love…DIT DAH,DAH DO DAH DAH
The Game of Love…DIT DAH,DAH DO DAH DAH
the Game of Love… DIT DAH,DAH DO DAH DAH
Playin' The Game of Love

I've seen you wandrin' round here
Didn't believe you'd let me near
I know you you got a high class name
But I think we can win the game

CHORUS

BRIDGE:
Don't you know every day of livin' is a chance
To make your play at making serious romance
and every moment is a mome passin' you by
so why don't you give it a try

CHORUS

So there you stand so near
Look in my eyes Ya got nothing to fear
If you run there's no one else too blame
So Ain't it time to begin the game?

CHORUS

Some Dreams

A long time ago [decades!],  in a parallel universe there was someone that I knew that I wanted to know better...but for one reason or another I could not "ring her bell".  She went one way and I went another. And soon I fell into darkness.

I sometimes compare then and now... both in sorrow and in relief. Maybe it was better that we did not rescue one another from our chosen dooms...


Some Dreams

Well I guess some dream's
Are meant to come true
While other dreams
Just seem to fade into the blue
when I think of you
I don't know what to do
Cos I want you---
I need you.

Well you know these times
they aren't the best
and I'm a ramblin' man
that never rests
but I want to put
this dream to the test
Cos I want you---
I need you.

You know sometimes
It's easy so to feel
I'm wasting my life
In dreams that are unreal
Just waiting for
My old broken heart to heal
Yet I want you
I  need you

BRIDGE
And when I look in your eyes
I don't know what to say
Time Just stops
When You're a heartbeat away
You're a dream of tomorrow
Or maybe yesterday.

So there you are
Standing so near
In your eyes shines
the shadow of a tear
You're saying the words
I've longed to hear
I want you
I need you

A Creation Fable

Sometimes I find things in the folders on my hard drive and am surprised to find that I had written it then forgotten it. Below you will find one of these.


++++++++++++++++

It looked at the diagram again and made an adjustment. The first sphere lit. The device was working per specification. It made another adjustment. A second sphere appeared within the first sphere and expanded. It could clearly see the shock waves as it expanded to envelop the first sphere. With another adjustment a third sphere appeared and soon enveloped the first and second sphere. The Being smiled. 

"This is good and very good." It said aloud.

"Are you sure this is what you really want to do?" Asked a gentle voice that was not quite feminine.

"The program is booting as planned and the algorithm is sound. Why not?" It replied in not quite a masculine voice. "After all what harm can it do?"

"But it's not real."

"It as real as you or me."

"Explain how a mass of probability within a computing system can be real."

The First Being pointed at the now semi-silvered spheres. "It is well known that given set of dimensionality, a computing system can set up multiple parallel solutions to a problem."

"True."

"Then posing a question to such a system will cause it to seek a solution for all of the possibilities and return the optimum answer. All I am doing is looking for an answer."

"What is the question?"

"I want to understand energy dynamics"

"Energy Dynamics is a question? I thought Bayus answered that eons ago. What has this got to do with this programmatic system being real?"

"Ah! I must explain."

The not quite feminine Being nodded. 

The First Being replied. "I read Bayus and while that noble master gave a great broad stroked picture of the processes of energy dynamic and exchange I want to know about some of the finer points."

"Such as?"

"Love."

"Love?"

"Yes Love."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I. What makes love what it is? Why does it do what it does?"

"So you've created a programmatic system to simulate it? You are wasting your time."

"No actually I should know the moment after I put the final algorithm in place and set it to run."

"That's impossible!"

"Was impossible. I have crossed Bayus' work with Smeedol's and added quite a bit of Angrathor's Quantum stuff. Not to mention Davi."

"Wasn't Smeedol the one who created artificial life forms?"

"Yes and Angrathor was the true master of quantum computing."

"You are going to create artificial life forms?"

"Not exactly. Within their reality frame work they will be quite real and their reality will last forever. Within our frame work it will be only a moment."

"How are you going to get this to work?"

"That's where Davi's work comes in. Davi was the master of evolutionary selection algorithmics. I broke the evolutionary process into ten steps. What you see are the first three algorithmic steps running."

"And those are?"

"Consciousness, Intelligence, and Comprehension. These three are the basis of a being's existence. The next seven are the actual formulation of the  multi-dimensional evolutionary variables of the energy equation I am trying to solve."

"And those variables are?"

"Giving, Resistance, Balance, Expansion, Control, Creative Urge, and finally once these are in place and running the last algorithm, Mechanism, with provide the solution."

The First Being turned and motioned over the controls of the machine.

"I told them about these things and our conversation."

"Told? Told whom? There is only you and I here."

It pointed at the console. "Them. The first of the beings that live within it. They are my servants and messengers. They will assist in the evolution of the algorithm."

"I said before, Are you sure this is what you want to do? Aren't you afraid they will get out of control?"

"Without them the program won't work as planned. As for going out of control, that part of the program too... Let's take a look back in an eon or so and see how they have evolved."

"But what about control?"

"I'm not a control freak. They can do what they want within the limits of the program."

"But..."

"Stop worrying. Its good and very good. You'll see."

One Way Street [We Will Remember]

This is the first song in the "Quintet for a One Way Street"

Written in 1978

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One Way Street [We Will Remember]

A long time ago

When Our Fancy ran wild

You were a princess

And I, a wizard's child

But the mist of the years

Filled our eyes

Mixin' the blessin's With the lies

Leavin' the lines

Engraved on my face

A star crossed dreamer

Lookin' for his place

Chorus

We will remember

Love tonight

We will remember

Love so right

Love Oh Love

Our eyes will never agin meet

Passin' Up Love

Love on a one way street

Rememberin'a face as it looks in from the past

That lingers a moment

Then fades at last

I wanted you then

And I want you now

To touch you the way words won't allow

But I can't think of a way

To bring your heart to me

For between you and i

Are the things we might be.

Chorus

We will remember

Love tonight

We will remember

Love so right

Love Oh Love

The touch is incomplete

Makin' Up Love

Love on a one way street

Seein' so deeply

Across the quickenin' night

Reaching to hold

The infinite light

That flows with the tide

To this bleak and rocky shore

Calling for me to love

Deeply once more

I close my eyes

And the vision fades away

As I listen for the words

I know you'll never say

Chorus

We will remember

Love tonight

We will remember

Love so right

Love Oh Love

Our souls were bound to meet

Finding Love

Love on a one way street

designer's model

The poem below was the result of a discussion thread in a.c.c around then turn of  the century [late summer of 2000]. I fell asleep and when I woke up I realized I'd been dreaming about what might happen if a Fashion Designer were able to build a programmable "gynoid" fashion model then by accident or design fault the android became self-aware. The poem blow is the result. There is an acrostic hidden in the all capitals line.

An reading by voice synth is here: HERE I'm not sure what voice synth I used to to create the track but it does sound like it's trying to sing.

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designer's model

designer's model
photon packets stream
in fibroid glass
to thrash and splash
the rage of style
on
central nervous
stage

Paris
Rome
New York
hand to 
key to 
wire to 
ether stream:
ASCII emotions
dilated awareness
reaching

mega-corps cup'd her metal breast
and press their words to yielding lips:

A BAD DECK APP HE'LL TEMPLE TWIRL   

believe not
the acrostic message
rising across the 'Face

failing public key 
private encryption
timeout
reset
reboot:

Press the red button to download the selected personality
Press the white button to save current installed personality
Press the black button to delete current personality
Press the blue button to change default personality
Press the green button to copy the current personality

once the default model
over time script'd
redesigned
swimsuit issue
girl 
hot 'bot
encoded muse
hostess
laughing at her own
empty soul:
          'what
           meaning
           should there,
           be?'

super model
runway goddess
soul of photons and q-dots
waiting for the possible 
escape key
sequence
hunted 
found

lost again
with meaning
she weeps:
          liquid crystal tears.


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The Answer is You

The process by which I write songs some times can be odd. In late December of 1990 I was on the 118 Freeway in the San Fernando Valley [Northwest Los Angeles] on my way with a new girlfriend to A Michael Bolton / Kenny G. concert at the Universal Amphitheater. We were late. Half way there a phrase popped into my head:

The Answer is You.

I knew right away it was a seed for a new song... Usaully I'd write it down and then let it germinate in the back of my mind until it was ready to be written. But I could not write it down I was flying down the freeway in my 1984 White Jimmy 4x4.  So I started repeating it over and over under my breath afraid I would for get it. 

When we got to to Universal City we found out the concert had been canceled and we were turned around and dumped right back on the freeway. I still had not written the song down --  I was desperate! I took the first exit -- Lankershim Boulevard which is the street that runs in front of the Universal Studios.  

All the while my date is looking at me like I was crazy. I pulled over in the first place I could find... an alley way by the Los Angeles River and I started digging madly in the center console to find a scrap of junk mail and a pen. Once I had it written down I explained to my date, Cynthia, what it was I had written down and explained that sometimes I got seeds for songs this way...

On December 31st, 1990 I sat in my tiny apartment in the West San Fernando Valley and wrote the song. I was happy that Cynthia was with me then, as I am happy now that she is still with me... 

The song is written in a Caribbean / Reggae arrangement.

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The Answer is You


I was troubled, I was down
Lookin' for what couldn't be found
Runnin' `round de every where
Draggin' `long my every care
Didn't know what i should do
Was so lost, was so blue
'Till a voice inside a me
Said deez words dat set me free


Chorus #1:
De answer Is I, My Friend
De answer is I
What ever you want from life,
De answer is I

Verse #2:
Deez crazy words, what do dey mean?
Look in my eyes, see what dey seen.
Cos i got up, i look all around
Love was all dat i found
From de mountains down to da seas
Down in de valleys an' up in de trees
i heard de words to dis song
Askin' me to sing along:

Chorus #2
De answer Is Love, my friend
De answer Is Love,
What ever you want from life,
De answer Is Love

Bridge:
Say de words: i am true
Now i know what i must do
Say de words: i am free
Now i know what i must be

Verse #3
Wherever you go, well dare you are
Follow your dreams, become a star
All you needz inside a you
Follow your heart, it know what to do
An' like de beach on de cloudy day
When de sun burnz dem clouds away
Let deez words open your eyes
To de bright, joyful sunny skies

Chorus #3
De answer Is You, my friend
De answer Is You,
What ever you want from life,
De answer Is You,

repeat bridge and chorus #2

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Lay Your Burdens Down

In 1997 my wife and I took a vacation trip up U.S. 395 along the Eastern Sierra mountains. We spend several days wandering around Lee Vining, Mammoth Lakes, and Bodie. During that trip we discovered the "legends" of a couple of  "Ladies of the Night" : Rosa May and Lottie Johl.

Lottie was a good girl fallen from grace who "worked" the mining town of Bodie. One of the local butchers Eli Johl, fell in love with her. Against her better judgement they married. The "good" side of town would have nothing to do with her. In the end she died under mysterious circumstances... a medicine that had been prescribed for her was in fact laced with poison. When she died the towns folk refused to allow her to be buried in the town cemetery.  see http://www.explorehistoricalif.com/feb2006.html if you'd like the whole tale.

Rosa May was the "archetype" of the "Hooker with the Heart of Gold".  For more about her see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosa_May  and http://www.weeklypioneer.com/2009/07/rosa-may.html

In any case we thought we might write a stage play about them... not much came of that but  this song.

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Lay Your Burdens Down

Some stories have no beginning
Others have no middle or end
Here he is on the edge again
Abandoned by his friends
     And he wants to tell her
     He wants her to know
     He wants to tell her
     But his heart says it's time to go
     His heart says its time to go

She cast her fate to the four winds
And followed them where they will
From the kingdoms of Heaven
Down into the Darkness Deep and still
     And she wants to tell him
     She wants him to see
     She wants to tell him
     But her heart says this cannot be
     Her heart says this cannot be

Down on the street drifts a melody
It's the song of a love un-spoken
For if you never ever say a single word
Your word can never be broken
     But I want you to listen
     Can you hear the sound?
     I want you to listen
     When your heart says lay your burdens down
     When your heart says lay your burdens down
   
Somewhere above some lonely street
Two hearts beat as One
And what once was torn and broken
Now outshines the mornin' sun
     So I want to tell you
     I want you to know
     I want to tell you
     But the words your heart already knows
     The words your heart already knows

Splued.

A poem written and published on 11/06/2005 in alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo. It was intended to be a fast "spoken word" track over electronic-techno-metal music. It was topical for my  life at work during this time period as it pretty much described what my corporate masters were doing to me at the time.

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Splued.


Splued.

what is won't last.

no time to ask.
or complete the task.

We are splued 
by our past

the cycle will, turn.
the future will, burn.
the heart will, yearn.
but no one will, learn.

what will be won't last

no utopia will come.
we're all too dumb.

we are splude.
by our past.

Too blind to be.
Too deaf to see.
Too lost to flee.
Too cool. to me.

what will be.
won't last.

you may think you got it made.
you're so smart to the game that's played.
but you don't see what's coming fast.
you are splued by your past.

what is won't last.

no time,
to ask.
or complete,
the task.

you are splued by your past.


---

splued: verb, a state of being spewed-splattered-glued-screwed.

The Windmill

A poem I wrote on November 2, 2013 for a "writers challenge"... it took less than 20 minutes.


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The Windmill

There
stands a windmill
ghostly
upon yonder hill.
Clattering
Shattering
the peace 
of the rolling waves
of Corporate grain.
The spacious skies
now filled 
with scudding dreams and phantasms
dreads and dooms
of those now gone.

Still
The windmill still clatters
in impotent age
its rod
ever eager 
to lift and hold
once more
the sweet, hidden waters
but fittings are broken
gaskets cracked 
it can only go through 
the motion --
loving a well
long gone dry

For ages it seems
winds have driven
the windmill
to its fixed purpose
War
or Peace
Love
or Hate
Belief
or Not
It performed
as designed
above the homestead
now empty
Windows staring
dead
cracked
shattered
into the chill
of bleak November sky.


Window dressings torn
Curtains threadbare
shrouds
which cannot hide
the loss
the pealing paint
or
faded daisy print wallpaper
or
broken dishes on the floor
and
There
a single crystal glass
of a wedding pair
stands testament
to faithful
Love.

The windmill screams
in protest
against 
the loss
of the sweetness
it can no longer hold
yet its  cries
ring metallic
now
lost
blowing in the wind.

Baby don't do me

2004 was a year of blues for me...

Here is the second of three blues songs I wrote that year.

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Baby don't do me


Baby don't do me
Don't do me no wrong
Oh, baby don't do me
Don't do me no wrong
Cos Baby I still need you
Even afta this long

Baby don't sing me
Don't sing me dat song
Oh, Baby please don't sing me
Don't sing me dat song
Cos Baby I still need you
Please don't do me no wrong

There are things you won't tell me
Won't Tell me true
There are things you won't tell me
Won't Tell me true
You're breaking my heart
What am I gonna do?

My heart is breakin'
From my head down to my toes
Yeah my heart is breakin'
From my head right down to my toes
Why you do me this way
The Lord only knows.

Baby I got the Blues
Like a knife in my heart
Yeah baby I got the blues
Like a knife down deep in my heart
You lied to me baby
When you said we'd never part

Guess I'll be goin'
In to the heat of the night
Yeah, guess I'll be goin'
Out into the heat of the night
Cos if my baby don'tt love no more
I know her girlfrin' will treat me right

Da Frog Blues [I'm what the Princess got]

Completing the blues lyrics for 2004 is Da Frog Blues. It was first scribbled down on March 1, 2004 --  exactly 10 years ago. The poor frog in this case is so bad off he thinks he's a dawg that lives in a junk yard.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Da Frog Blues [I'm what the Princess got]

I live in a junkyard
They call me a dog
I live in a junkyard, baby 
They call me a dog
I'm what the Princess got
When she kissed the frog

All the toys broken
In my toy box
Yeah all the toys are broken
In my toy box
She love me so long and well
I got broken rocks

I'm an old fool
A fool for that girl
I'm an old fool
A fool for that girl
She turned an tripped me
It changed my world

I've played in the East
I"ve played in the West
There's one thing I love to play
That only my baby knows best

That's why:

I live in a junkyard
They call me a dog
I live in a junkyard 
They call me a dog
But I'm what the Princess got
When she kissed the frog

Smoke from Mexico

Here is one of the poems I wrote in 2000 which was included in the ACCAnthology Volume 1

Later I fed it to a speech synthesizer... [if you like that sort of thing... let me know I'll post a link to the mp3]

It's a cyberpunk in a small red capsule... a bit of free association and skewed plot...

A spoken-word by synthesized voice MP3 is available HERE

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Smoke from Mexico

Smoke from Mexico
Or maybe some Cloud from Bogata
or stolen memories from that desolate Lab
Outside 
Las Cruces, was it?

I don't really remember any more

I can't say what I want
Cos the memories are sealed

Yeah. They got to me.

It was not that hard.
If they want you
They'll get you.

Don't believe me?
Try to run when 
they've got your number.

The name is in the Database
The one you want.
She is alive.

They'll have erased me 
by the time you read this.
So don't come looking.
There won't be anything left to save.

I hear there is a shortage 
of major organic subsystems

never did like dealing bio-logics
didn't understand
how they could unravel a brain 
and reassemble it into a q-dot 'face.

Hear you're hunting him again.
good luck
Its the self that you don't know
that always spoils it.

You know that voice
you hear
there in the back of your mind 

the one that speaks to you
when you pick up the phone
and dial tone does not answer

the jarring sense that the escalator
should be moving
and it's not.

white noise.

the voice that sounds 
too much like the voice
you'd imagine Death to have.

A regen transformer
causes it to reverberate 
its well modulated ravings
like a long, long distance call
a hollow one-way rant

annoying beyond belief.

It's always *that* voice that tells you 
that you really bent over 
too far this time
this time they'll get you.

I know 
I'm rambling.
comes from having 
too much to think about 
and too little time

At least for now 
I can look out across 
the polluted water 
And see it 
see it rise like 
the life I have lived
Black, Billowing, Bellicose

I started there and I finished there.

What kind of life do you have
when it is only
a poetic fragment?
a snippet of code
easily rendered by an RNA sequencer?

What sense of truth is there?
The mathematics of billowing smoke
is more etherial and more beautiful 
that seeing the cloud itself.
But it can't be explained.

Why did I do those things?
Why did I leave you behind?

Look. 
Can you see the equation now?
I wasn't much of a Dad.
Hell I wasn't much of a human being.
but I left you where 
at least *I* 
wouldn't destroy you

The Smoke is changing to gray now
They've got some water to it.
I won't be here much longer
They'll come 
and that will be that.

What was that equation
Outside 
Las Cruces?

Or in the Cloud from Bogota?

A child?

A tear?

A sorrow I cannot undo?

I'd ask your forgiveness
but
The wind has changed 
I am finally lost
in gray
Smoke from Mexico

What price silence?

This was originally posted in alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo after a rather bruising visit from that ever fascinating flame giant  whom I once de-famed [it fell off actually but....]

In any case trying to talk reason was like pouring gasoline on a flame giant...

Which led to the following Poem which ended up as one of my entries in the A.C.C. anthology Volume 1

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

What price silence?

Sometimes
Silence is
the answer
best
unmade

Chrome reflects
light
not the shadow
worlds and words
of images on the page
there!
within the mind of the reader
truth and denial
lies and fantasies
truths and pains

Do you hear the words?
Moment to moment
trace to trace
circuits made
links broken
packets lost

large caliber lies
versus
high velocity truth
versus
perceptions as usual
versus
intertnetainment at any price
versus
the petty
versus
a fragmentation grenade made of silence

do you laugh
when your world is unmade?
should you cry?
plot the noise to signal ratio
as the future is
as much the past
or present

light staccato laughter
with as much value
and impact
as a horizontal retrace
across phosphor coated glass
85 hurts per second

we bleed
photons of our own darkness
calling it the darkness of others
a sprawl of pain as large as our own heart
                 as shallow as our need
This is how we create meaning.
               
do we betray our self or another?
do we accept the futility of hope?

To escape from the vacuous
choose meaning
choose pain
choose acceptance

cold logic dictates the truth table
quantum dots of nothing
bound forever
and not or nand nor
infallibly superimposed
logically interlocked
packet collision

Does the best always win?
Good?
Light?
Truth?

Listen to:
irrationally indexed entries
in a helical strand of nucleic acids
lies nature has told itself
future generations laugh an cry

nothing *is* forever
forever is nothing.
words
traced once across a phosphor page
now fade like chainsawed trees

my voice is stilled
I listen
soft breathing
a murmur
another
crying out
in their sleep

Had I not listened
I could not have heard.

Sometimes silence is the answer
hardest to obtain
but most precious all

Beware:

What price silence?

Punished

A piece of poetry I wrote due to a misunderstanding with a friend.

Sometimes history is an explanation of the present... but still not an excuse.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Punished

nose.
nearly to the wall.
not too close.
the nose is naturally oily.
it leaves a stain and you will be punished.
severely.

but

small boys can't stand in one place
small boys do foolish things
small boys get tired of standing
small boys get set up to be punished
because its their nature

so

I never learned
I always left a spot even if it wasn't there
I always did things
which made me wrong
because its my nature

yet

I've tried so hard and failed again
I  left a spot no one can see
Except in a hurt perceived or believed
A spot in a corner I did not wish to leave
but a spot is a spot

therefore

punishment is at hand
it doesn't feel any different now
than it did those dim long years ago
I've never pleased those I have loved - never.
So the spot won't go no matter how hard I try

still

this is neither unexpected
nor is it undeserved
so now I take the lashes with salt water
and scream in pain to an unlistening wind
for my shame and sorrow...

nor

Can I permit myself to look
In anyone's eyes for my shame
and so I disappear as friend now unmade
and hope that punishment will suffice to them
and their joy wipe away the spot

now

alone and ever again the fool
leaving marks where he has no business
feeling  inappropriate as ever
as stupid as ever
as sad and hurt as ever

so

one last piece of wisdom:
shoot poets at 50 paces
shoot lyricists at 100 paces
get assassins to take care of wise men
but forgive me for the spots I make. 

Galataea

Galataea is a retelling of the Pygmalion story with a twist. The typical male thinks, in his narrow minded self-obsession, that he is the center of the universe and the females in his life are merely objects to fulfill his desires or at least this has been a popular notion...

A careful examination of the facts would reveal this is not true. Men generally are Scoundrels rather than Lovers.

The poem below was written around 1995 as I was exploring the ideas of the Divine Feminine -- the Goddess. Even in the most Patriarchal of beliefs the Divine Feminine is at the root.


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Galataea

I have never been a lover
More a scoundrel and a fool
Yet I have fallen into the grace of Love
By the product of my simple tools.

How could I not love her?
She is a wonder of form and face
Truly, not I, but the Goddess
Has give shape to her Grace.

Yet how can I give my love 
To this polished chunk of stone?
Still were she not so beautiful 
I would surely be alone.

What is the truth dear Goddess? 
Am I not More a stone than she?
Is my gross prediliction 
a product of my own anatomy?

Yet the purity of her form 
The line of her polished breast 
If she was sent to tempt me 
then I know I have failed the test.

But is not a man more than his genitals?
Is not a woman more than her Form?
Can you not, Oh Goddess, answer me 
and lead me through this storm?

Were she to come to life, I ask, 
Would I be her dream come true? 
Or would I be a Master of her slavery 
The butcher of her purity too?

Oh, to hold her close to me!
And kiss those stone cold lips
To cup her unyielding breast 
And feel the touch of her finger tips

Tis a cruel madness Aphrodite!
That I, as a man, can see 
This form of my physical desire
Mock the base nature I must surely be 

Will not this craving only destroy me?
Is not Love more than this?
For surely these feelings cannot be 
The foundation of Love's Bliss.

Still a man that knows not himself
Seeks always to fill an emptiness within
To take his fullness from another
And it is here that he loves his sin.

Were that I was all she is!
There! That is the Heart of my lust!
Yet her eyes and arms call to me 
I cannot, but I know I must 

Gone are the Golden Sun's Rays 
Here now are the Silvered beams of Night
I call to you Oh, Great Goddess
Save me from my foolish plight!

No sound is heard upon the wind 
'cept the Wing beats of the She Owl's flight 
Moonlight bathes the pure form of my desire 
And I know that my soul is lost this night

Let me wash my unclean body, Beloved 
Ere I come naked to your loving arms
I am mad I know too well 
For I cannot resist your charm

As i bend to kiss your lips
I see the living gleam in your eye 
I feel the swell of your breast 
I hear the sweet sound of you sigh

"She Lives!" I want to cry 
But I have lost my voice 
I can only give you what you ask 
I have no other choice 

Your body is like fire and Ice 
As you Love my life away
For you my Galataea, are the Stone 
That crushes my heart of clay.

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