Friday, June 5, 2009

Auto da fé

You build a bonfire in the back yard,
feeding it on illusions I've kept
stashed beneath the sink with
dried-out cans of silver polish.
Nothing will restore the shine
to old dreams and shattered love.
Now, pet. Go. Into the flames with you.
Yes, my Lord, I say,
and forming verses in my head
I walk
into the heat and the light.
When I reach the fire I turn
and look you in the eyes
and start to rise,
leaping backwards,
dancing with the sparks,
embracing my destruction,
singing the consumption
of my tits and cunt and hair.
The fat in my tits crackles
and brings water to your mouth
and blood to your testicles.
You catch my voice in every spark
that floats among the fireflies
that soars into the trees.

And when, like a witch,
I'm safely burned away,
you poke at the ashes and
traces of my whispered breath
surround you
in the wind.
I am yours, my Lord,
you hear me sigh.
Even now,
I am yours.

[Originally written for my Master and published with his permission by Zander Vyne where it looks much prettier than it does here.]


Anonymous said...


So dark. And, and, and...I was just exactly now looking at Berruguete's painting (of the same name) which, for all its darkness, I remember being very enticing to me when I was a boy. The nails; the fire; the elaborately constructed suffering/offering. I always felt bad about abstracting those images from their horrible context. Thanks for validatng that shift....

-Orlando C

Paul said...

OG, this is beautiful, I know I say that often.
This should be set to music and sung by Leonard Cohen.
You bring beauty when you write, for which I thank you.
Love and warm hugs,

Greenwoman said...

I have to agree with Paul about the L Cohen remark.

I liked the sudden shift from pretty poetic language and imagery to the raunchy words that bring such visceral images to a mind. Nice work.

oatmeal girl said...

Funny thing, Orlando, I came across that same painting when I was doing some research to make sure this would be an appropriate title for the poem. And I really really shouldn't find anything erotic about it at all, considering all the Jews that died in the Inquisition. But oh my, going back now to look at it, and noticing again the man in the bottom right corner with the chain around his neck while the other end is being held by the man on the steps... I am horribly embarrassed at how aroused I am at the moment.

Here's the link to the picture, for anyone else who wants to see it:

Paul and Greenwoman both - you can imagine how I pretty much froze at your linking anything I wrote with Leonard Cohen. Though re-reading it, I can sense what inspired your observation. Damn. I am truly stunned. Thank you so much.

And - damn humility in favor of honesty - I did feel that this poem gained another level. I admit to having impressed myself with it. Scary, really. It's those first 4 lines. There is something about those lines that, I don't know... they feel like REAL POETRY, if you know what I mean.

I wish I could do that all the time.

I still like it best viewed over on Zander's website.

TFP said...

I like it....

mamacrow said...

yes I agree - those first four lines (unbelievably) are a touch above what is a truly amazing poem

oatmeal girl said...

Hi,'s nice to see your little blue flower pop up again.

mamacrow - what I need is to be able to write whole poems like those first 4 liens. [sigh...] maybe some day...