Blessed Foolishness

m parkes inappropriate love
from my favorite artist Michael Parkes

After belaboring sowing and reaping,

and reminding that Karma is a bitch,

I laud blessed foolishness.

There are things in our living

that can make tricksters of us.

Absolute fools.

The high card of them all

is love.

Praise affection

familial and friendly.

For me, nothing compares to

Eros —

Who sets one cockeyed silly bombastic

earthmoving and roving,

melt-earth-and-rocks foolish.

I do experience this

addicting affliction in my lifetime.

It is fully irrational,

falling to pieces to give all my pieces away.

Mister Toad’s wild ride careens

between crashing chaos and

pummeling wind

euphoria

mounting the silken enchanted carpet.

This love takes body, soul, goods and

sanity.

Foreshadowing of the searing slicing

pain

of Eros’ love’s end

haunts, bites and blunts.

It leaves me with

gratitude

that I live authentically

recklessly

from my foolish smitten heart.

I lose all. I find all.

No one can take this away —

body and soul are knit.

I am the fool clown for love.

I live on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A. B.

scary twitter.pngPhoto ~ my own

I know a she-zero that takes pleasure
in stealing human treasures
from women she can never measure
up to, ever.
She brings one-hundred-fold of her own jealousy
and hatred back upon herself and her cohorts
for generations
and generations.
God/Karma have pity.
I don’t.

The Eternally Lucid Adulteress

angry Indian goddess
Kali ~ internet art

Please.

Do not tell me your family is my family.

Your family is not my family.

They are her family.

I have no family.

 

 

Please.

Do not tell me your family loves me.

They fear me.

When they saw the care between us,

they could not marry you off fast enough.

“Aha. We will be rid of that powerful, influential, golden devil.

We will not lose our control over this useful, servant son.”

She has the love of your family.

I have no love from your family.

 

Please.

Do not tell me your house is my house.

It is her house.

You are building that room with the arched window for her.

That room is not for me.

I will never see it.

I will never sleep in it.

I have no room.

I have no house.

 

Please.

When you look at your first newborn daughter,

you will know her name is Rajjean.

Without Rajjean, you would not have been eligible to marry.

Without Rajjean, you would have had no life.

But she now owns Rajjean.

I have no Rajjean.

 

Please.

Be rid of Rajjean?

I am etched in your soul.

I am the shame and salvation

of you and your family.

 

Please.

I do not have their naivety.

I do not have their fear.