- Non-Erotic Poetry
- winter beach
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at high tide the ocean swells near --
its ceaseless motion whispering
secrets of an inhuman world
and prophecies of endless time.
icy winds whip gunmetal waves
that churn a hectic rush to shore.
gusts lift thin scatter shots of sand
that sting my face, invade my eyes.
a brittle sun breaks through the pall
then despairs as the sky closes.
thunder pours out of swirling clouds,
thick fogs obscure the far skyline.
we've waited for this gypsy storm
that now writes its name in our book.
we've waited for these black waters
that now surround our forebodings.
the shrieking wind, the angry sea,
the cold darkness that is falling,
this is the well of destiny,
and the navel of nothingness.
savage, elemental, it is
the narrow path to our heaven.
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