The Peach Garden Oath
I The storm clouds of evening hovers over me It tells me of void and absurdity of existence For the conscious structure are thrown into submission and decay And the beauty of green fades as the tears flow. We wear definitions like fine collegiate clothing But is it a looking glass into ourselves? However I cry with bitter tears As she stands there with dress blowing I reach out with frail hands and mind in genuflect I try to touch her but can’t The wind graces my cheek; nature’s kiss perhaps She stares right out to me with those eyes Her finger of porcelain bids me peace and serenity She calls me forward Bestows upon me a sweet kiss And we still kiss underneath the blanket of the sunset horizon We kiss and speak in tongue with jewel eyes sheltered. We have slipped into a serene bliss, enwrapped in the silk of Solomon We have melted away into the wonder of the elements We have each other. Even though sometimes the sunset is obscured by clouds, I know it’s still there. II Will you be my Valentine? No, you say. All right, fine. Can’t win them all. Will you be my Valentine? No, you say. I understand. At least you were honest. Will you be my Valentine? No, you say. That’s fine. I see you are not ready. Will you be my Valentine? No, you say. Oh… you’ve found another. Oh… sorry Will you be my Valen… oh fuck this! I don’t have the time to deal with this Game of ask, explain, rejection Ask, explain, rejection Ask, explain, rejection, pissed off mood. I’m sick of this shit of being frustrated at the heavens And the earth that she looks down upon. Will you be my Valentine? That’s a fuck-up question. It’s wine served up Prematurely to the underage and the stupid. Don’t they even know how to use a credit card? (Oh wait, bad question. I know the answer already.) Well fine then. Enjoy yourselves you fucked-up partygoers Who wish to embark on orgies of delight and satisfaction. But man… they’re going to wake up with such a headache And I will still have the keys to go to another day. Will you be my Valentine? I can tell you this much. Ask that question With a lot of heart. Ask that question To someone who deserves it and who wouldn’t mind The devotion and the loyalty forever and ever (And actually mean it this time. None of this “I’ll love you Forever” and then two weeks, the sex gets sour and both of you Storm off because you weren’t the miracle of miracles). Ask that question At a time when the sky is just right and the girl you want To be with forever has a smile and an open heart because it will Be harder to separate something that has been welded together so well. Will you be my Valentine? You might as well ask (at your age) will you be my whore? III Blood drenched undershirts are a bitch to clean up However, something possessed me to move forward, to Pick up and try again. I went to her and exchange short talk and make inquiries To which she replied honestly and openly and concluded before sailing off See you later. I inquired her again but changed the motivation And she was still transmitting that smile and warmth that says I’m glad I know you. I move forward and continue to work on assignments for pseudocorporations And now I’m lost in thought and in dreams of her whispering to me in a bridal chamber “I love you…” IV The wind plays the harp tonight The moon still looms overhead, Shattering the light on the aquatic surface And life is either resting or being active. I count the number of stars on the sky while you count the number of kisses you give to me. You tell me through a seductive body language that you love me dearly. I am a sculpture to behold and the guards give you permission to perform a tactile analysis. Your hands feel the contours and blemishes made by divine chisels That illuminates a signature of God. Your lips emit a warm breath to blow away the dust, Exposing the beauty for a visual satisfaction. —Why count the stars? (inquires in a soft voice) —My darling, wasn’t Abraham promised a family for each star? In my case, it’s something with love. I know not the quantity But I know that the end result is that the stars will form a picture of you And I can always look at it when I’m lost at sea or distant from you. But don’t worry, I’ll return the favour you are bestowing upon me. I can hear her breath and the feel the pounding of the cardiac drum. Even though I cannot personally vouch for this, she is smiling and lost in dreams. I examine, ponder, indulge, smile and have my senses overloaded with love and beauty. I do this because she answered the question I asked And now, we love and love as the echo of the epithalamium rings on into our hour of nocturne. V In a dark room it started To make sense when she came to me. She came forward with the music perfectly cued To the pulse inside me And she knew the key And the sequence that would make me dare to dream. The dream that Aphrodite discovered and embodied into The modern Galatea for the young artist. No longer of wax formed, now the blood flows To create a vibrant entity. *** We dance into the starlight With a classical celestial face looking upon us Illuminating the French gardens below, casting its light Stones into the iridescent lake and they skip like our feet. We dance underneath the starry awning (and continue to do so)… *** Before we kiss, I check to make sure she is wearing her ring. It is much more beautiful and sweeter that way to remember that The bed is the altar of the divine. We make the salt of earth but we taste the wine of God. We make it for ourselves, an apotheosis to a day, a statement and a memory When we were one and the families witnessed a reverse mitosis. We make it for the same reason we make art. She is so beautiful and she repeats the chorus. She sings in an upper voice to a bass line of my own creation. She makes sure the chord progression and the counterpoint produces something Interesting (perhaps it’s a new wavelength for the radios to receive) She, being a co-writer and co-director of the movie scene, has an idea of what the camera should capture. She improvises and delivers a collection of stage directions for them to speak a heavenly soliloquy. She is so beautiful and she forgets her line. *** We dance underneath crystal chandeliers. We stare into each other’s eyes and the watch continues ticking Without worrying about the deadline. We dance and kiss and love Without moving our feet.
Date of Assembly: 3 March 2001
Commentary: The poem was a result out of five separate poems that shared a common theme and the need to make a “title poem” out of The Peach Garden Oath. "I" was originally titled “The Kiss of the Autumn Equinox” (8 September 2000) as a daydream response to my view of love at the beginning of the year, which was that it was beautiful and it was out there for me in this time. II was called titled “The Day the Heart Bled” (14 February 2001) and was written as a bitter response to-wards Valentine’s Day in high school. "III" - “A Recovery from Grief and Angst” (16 February 2001) - was a “recovery” poem from the things that were said in the previous poem. "IV" - “The Whispers in the Bridal Chamber” 21 February 2001) was a reaction to a thought about love in marriage (it’s still about love and not so much the marriage except that it is sanctioned by marriage). And "V" was “The Down Slow Experience” (28 February 2001), a declaration of my thoughts of love in that love’s place and beauty belongs within marriage. "III" and "IV" were written with Laura Haworth in mind since she was the one who gave me a smile when my heart wasn’t.