The Dark Side of the Moonchild

She reflects gentle pearl colored light,
Illuminating my shadowy path through
A dark wilderness of isolation
I can see her; she is there
But way out of reach
The blood in my veins
Ebbs and Flows like a tide
Turned by the waxing
And waning of her smile
She is my moonchild
Beautiful, powerful
And very fragile

Luna, goddess of night,
Weaver of magic dreams,
And caster of enchanting spells
When her jack-o’-lantern light is full
I am restless; there is a tidal wave in my heart
And a battle raging in my brain
I can feel her heat
And she incites me to insanity
“I like crazy,” she whispers

My greedy neurotic eyes become psychotic
As I tear at my own flesh for wanting
Pull at my hair for needing
Run full speed into the dark maze of
Lost and forgotten souls
Until I drop…
Only to
Stop
The endless
Screams of banshees
Lurking in the recesses of my soul

When she is crescent
Her dark side is midnight blue
I am the court jester
I am her fool
Juggling, stumbling
Performing tricks
She is my sad queen
Trapped in the majesty
Of her own imagination

I wish I were her knight,
Come to offer her the key to my heart;
The key to freedom.
But alas, I am only a fool,
Tripping over his own words,
Fumbling for the right tone,
Hoping to see her smile again,
Showering me in mother of pearl raindrops
And bathing me in the light of her celestial beauty
I pray that it never be eclipsed


ambient-1 © 2010

The Adoration of Luna

Last night,
I opened the memoirs of Eros.
As I read through it,
Her name appeared on every page
In whispers, in screams,
In cries of exaltation.
My hands trembled
But I held it steady.

Words, like crazed animals, leapt off the page
And sniffed me, licked me, bit me.
Droplets of blood,
Mingling with perspiration,
Rolled down my face and arms.

I read the sacred rituals:

Luna on her hands and knees,
Luna the equestrian Goddess,
Luna the lascivious whore
Luna the submissive slave
And Luna the merciless master.

All these manifestations of her
Had me fumbling for the next page:
I was like a child peeking through a keyhole.
She was standing over her subject,
Leg over his shoulder, tufts of hair in one fist,
Riding crop in the other.

She pressed his face into her holy of holies,
And gave him another welt on his haunch.
When he brought her to the edge,
Each hit was fiercer than the last,
Her eyes were closed, head back
Each tug, plunged his face deeper into her sanctum

He was her appaloosa,
She rode him to the brink of death
And her pleasure was intensified by
The Strength of his devotion.
Would he die for her?
Could he please her If he did?

ambient-1 © 2010

British Mueseum

Nocturnal Submission

The long deep sleep
Of a weary mind
Brought you
Dancing into
My bedchamber
At midnight

Silhouetting
The blue
Moonlight
Streaming in
Through my
Open window

You were the
Gypsy snake charmer
Receiving gifts
Of flesh fruit
And nocturnal
Emissions

Drawing down the moon,
You performed
The sacred ritual
Of fertility
And Filled your chalice
With milkbone and cream

I was the axis mundi
And you were the
Sky and earth
Rotating around me with
Hypnotic incantations,
Whispered revelations

Spinning and spinning…

The scent of musk
And breath, wet
With sticky sex
And damiana,
Raised the kundalini and
Penetrated the thin veil of sleep

All busy in the moonlight;
I watched scarlet smoke
Dance in its beams;
As it emerged and converged
Spirit and flesh
Became one

ambient-1 © 2010