Never Mind the Brahan Seer
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
At times we wake up wide in sleep called dreams.
The Greece we never visited comes up
In visions worthy of its Iron Age gleams.
We see a drug-eyed priestess lift her cup
And spill hot promises for us to lick.
We see a vision Venus wanted us
To suffer in its sacred trance as slick
As every god would want to be. We cuss
With holy words we did not know we knew,
A glossolalia of lips on fire.
The lips of mouth and lips below feel true
Enlightenments of flesh and male desire.
The holiest of caves are where we see
Like prophets praying, singing undersea.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Jan 29, 2025 | Uncategorized |