Here are the three poems I wrote and read for the evening --

Solomon

When I was young, some kid in school was crying and told us his mom and dad were divorcing
I asked my father how he and my mother had lasted so long, in an arranged marriage

he said
love is like the ocean
the tide rises and falls
some days it's high tide and your mother and I are hopelessly in love
and when it's low tide, your mother is the best friend I could ever have
so when you grow up you should never give up hope
because another tide is always coming

thirty years later
and I understand
I can see that
some are afraid
some may drown
but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a sunny day swimming

he was the wisest man I've ever known
he was my father
his name was solomon

--

Time Machine

you take me back in time
most days I revert to sixteen
happy and full of hormones
dying of sexual curiosity
now I'm twelve
spin the bottle for my first kiss
let's play indians
you be the squaw, okay?
can I tie you up?
then I'm six
first day of kindergarten
playing with your hair as you smile
don't let the teacher see
(first rush of sexual awareness)
and then I'm one
nestled in your bosom
no no not age one
you and I are one before we became two
back to conception
nothing more than a spark of nucleopeptides
before my original face
back back back in time
a thousand million billion years ago
I'm reduced to a reptilian brainstem
all limbic synapses, no cortex but still able to think
my what a gorgeous ass you have
all grunts and licking and finally
I reach a state of no mind, no chatter, no Zen
only this endless hopeless drive of evolution
only the hunger in my cock
desperate in my need to fuck you
then my goddess
you disappear into quantum soup
into what was before the beginning
there
ah
ah
yes

--

baby bodhisattva

on dangerously high heeled shoes
you strut down this street of overpriced shops selling bottled hopes
the one true thing of beauty here
in this desert of botox and bulemia
bursting with estrogen
pheromones wafting behind you
like the terrible wake of a sexual tsunami

I'm washed up on this naked shore
torn and tattered
leaning, leaning
into the salty afternoon
sticky with sweat and sand
I watch you like the setting sun
admiring your beauty and turning you in my mind
like some koan that has driven me insane

fingers desperately unbuttoning
your blouse, so sheer
I can simply see
my destruction
my addiction

you're a cablebox of love
500 channels and no sign of stopping
more than I can ever enjoy in a lifetime

I love to watch you wash your face
your morning rituals
comfort me
my little shakti
my tantric tormentor
my baby bodhisattva
thank you for specializing in sensual salvation