Sunday, March 28, 2010

Earthbound Angels #1 Leaden Winged Angel


PAINTING BY SURREALIST JOAN MIRO(1893-1986) " CARNIVAL OF HARLEGUINS"


PAINTING BY FRANCISCO GOYA (1746-1828) " THE THIRD OF MAY"


PAINTING BY SURREALIST RENE MAGRITTE(1898-1967) "ATTEMPTING THE IMPOSSIBLE"

all pics from Hello & Picasa



So here is a poem from my series Earthbound Angels:

earthbound angels
#1 leaden-winged angel
edited 1/11/02

Sexually ambivalent
she sighs speaking
a woman's name
she secretly loves
she desires in dreams
fantasies only
caressed at night by angels
meditating on red & gold cushions
burning candles & incense
she bows to a photo of her Guru
her sensuousness left untouched
a citizen of a celestial city
a lost city in a valley paradise
in the mountains of Tibet
dreaming of Nirvana
the world around her too crude
her words whirl about
in a joyous frenzy
turning slowly into a mad angry dance
forced to live on this banal plane of existence
where sometimes even angels
cannot bring her solace
to her fevered mind
each step through deep snow
on slippery ice
a burden on her soul
the weight of earth's air & gravity
weighs down upon her
talking late into the night
unable to stop the rush of words
unwilling to accept
a world gone mad
a world of pettiness
a world of poverty
a world of intolerance
a world of brutality
a world where the rich stone the poor
cut off a hand for stealing bread
for each injustice
she dips her angel wings
into molten led
til her waking becomes
slow & ponderous
wondering where God's sympathies lie
seeking salvation in heresies
in the minds of muddled
addle-headed greedy
grasping half-drunk
spiritually materialistic mystics
seeking a soothing theology
a philosophy to ease the mind
to ease us all into a soothing sleep
a false hypnotic narcotic induced sleep
& not the sleep of angels
for the angels wander about
eyes wide open pierced by the light-

Earthbound the leaden-winged angel
cannot hear celestial voices
meets the prophet Elijah
does not recognize him
watches the Messiah approaching
only sees a solitary stranger in rags
fearful of his coming near her
she turns away
heads down another street
hearing his footsteps echoing
hurries home & locks her door
& begins her nightly ritual
retreating into her fantasies
lighting her candles & incense
chanting empty soothing phrases
dreaming of her secret lover
behind the masks she wears
beneath the lump of flesh
which weighs her down she searches for a way
to scrape the led
from off of her wings
still unable to accept
she is made of flesh
& not of pure shimmering light-

So long for now,
GORD