Beats of Eros and Death: A Gogyohka Sequence

For Yosano Akiko and Martin Heidegger

mesmerized
by Akiko's Tangled Hair
I encounter
eros as infatuation
blooms into love

dumbfounded
with Heidegger's Being and Time
I view
death, shadowy confessor
as a kindred spirit

eros'
tangled hair's breadth
separates
me from poetry
the mind wanders on the page

I am
in a stew over death's
bad breath
my poems suck up all
of its decay ordor

roaming
the lanes of my mind
I can't find eros
back in the hut of my poem
I smell death

death sighs
there is no room for my misery
in this hut
you and eros have left no space!
I cry in silence

my mind
is empty while something dangles
between the legs
where is eros
my muse of poetry?

death lurks
about the room
taunting
how can I stop him
from reading my poems?

the moon spills
her light upon eros’ face
I see
the red shades of her longing
expressed in a poetic form

placing himself
beyond the pale of humanity
death casts
his frosty gaze at me
while I write poetry

eros sways
her body before my eye
I want to talk
men here watch or talk me
into something else... Poetry?

death sits
on my shoulders with feet crossed
pushing me
six feet under
I'm writing my jisei

eros winks at me
licking her lips
I can't wait
and lunge at her on paper
moaning poems in the making

death smiles
flashing big yellow teeth
and asks, how are you?
I ignore him
and keep writing poetry

moonrays
reveal our coupled body
eros and I
pulsate to the rhythms
of our gogyohka

Augustine claimed
there is a hole in the soul
I decide
to fill it with poetry
death gives me a cold look

into the depths
of the long dark night
eros and I
make love on the page
the birth of a poet

under
the burning gaze of death
I am nothing
for I’ve been living
through paper

moonstruck
eros snoops through my drawers
trying
to find poem-scented lingerie
worn by my "other women"

I can't believe
I still see you
death!
You've reached your expiration date
I dumped you one poem ago

at the end
of Are You Lonesome Tonight
I kneel
and propose to eros with poems
poor thing! she laughs

I stare
into somewhere for hours
death clears his throat
bringing me down to reality
I am just a silverfish

eros sighs
no use in figuring me out
everything
I say to you is poetry
I lament, what kind?

death answers
you can't hide from me
in poetry
for I am your reader
I cry, the only reader!

when kicking
at the embers of my life
I see
the sparks in eros' eyes…
my poetry title

Lynx, XXVI:1