adrienne maree, the luscious satyagraha

found poetry is my new thing. its when you overhear something or see something written somewhere that converges interestingly with something you are doing or have just done. convergence poetry, found poetry…here it is:

the story: i left a harm reduction class and was walking down the street and a store was blaring a speech and the person said - will you learn of discipline from the pale skinned virgin priest?’. this poem came next:

i went to the pale skinned virgin priestbut he could tell me nothing of love, lust or devotionhe'd never felt the overwhelming pull of those oceansnor succumbed to that aching crux of want turned neednever tasted the knife so sweet you suck till you bleedthe hunger that reminds you we are half dream half beast

i went to the wide eyed work whored saintbut she couldn't recall her days spent in the darkhow razor sharp big love is the mouth of a sharkhow the sweet honeyed finger makes sure it amazed youhow love that close to madness allows for no phase twoand finally you choose not what a thing is, but what it ain't

to which my friend janine suggested a new last line:

in the end you choose not the song but the echo, now faint

which i truly like.

its stunningly gorgeous outside and i am going to read work isht out there!