Underneath The Wall of Pleasures

Underneath the wall of pleasures
Upon the dusty rubble of regrets
I am that thirsting hollering dog
With ears sharp and eyes blind
Clutched between the teeth
My own Self’s collar & leash.
Where is That Beloved of mine?
How could a dog be a dog without?
A Master to run to and bark for
An Owner to love and moan for
For as long as ‘I am’ this foul dog
For as long as forever! You are gone.
My love: The barks of these poems
My Love! Do call upon this name
Let this dog’s name echo in heavens
Forsake me not in this sorrow till death
The whirlpool of yelping tears this dog’s trail
The typhoon of Sea of Love this dog’s grave

Stretch not your hand upon the gold of my child’s skin for though I am only a Persian forsooth I shall battle to slaughter the colorful devil that possesses thee to kill your own sable brother. The black honey of my son’s runny irises, torrential nectar descending from the hearth of my Divine Beloved and the combs of Eden’s eternal beatitude, though this day honeycombs of Heavens drown within the hadal waves of brother killing brother.

Stretch not your hand upon this child of mine darkling love that this Persian sees best within the darkness of screaming skins, clarion calls for That Beloved King of mine to hold court for Final Judgment.

Stretch not your hand upon the dark meadows to pluck the sable blossoms of Eden that this Persian has died many thousand deaths upon the altar of betrayals at the trembling hands of that grotesque tempter who has taken thee slave, but this time shackled not with chains crafted from steel but invisible unbreakable chains fashioned from your lightless blooming betrayals.

Stretch not your hand upon my treasure hidden in depth of the Divine Darkness that the shattered heart of this saddened Persian the vessel and the sorrows of this Persian’s sobs the Noah’s Flood and fear That Beloved whom in early hours of the dawn searches for the shipwreck drown in their own tears.

Background: Photo by Carol Guzy.

© 2004-2002,  Dara O. Shayda