The Transit of Venus

Venus gliding
upon the waves flowing 
from heaven’s windowsill 
Step aboard
my unworthy vessel
my rapacious Rapunzel
With hair flowing down
wild from a golden crown
Mere words can only fail
in the expressing 
of what the heart knows
but can never tell
Her love 
like a silken gown
flowing down
from an ivory tower
My up rising 
from the stony ground
like a morning glory 
of power flowering 

Deep within
with heavy sighing
to the heavens gasping
“Oh God!”
That little death
of love resurrecting
grasping together 
within one diluvian breath
That giving and taking
ever flooding the living 
with heavenly meaning
beyond all rhyme and reason
The hours redeeming
with full blown passion
Celebrations sacred
in unity worshiping

This heart has known
the broken floor
and the open door
A spirit united and ignited
touched by the Presence
and then gifted to witness 
the transit of Venus
across my horizon descending
resistance was useless 
against her amorous spell
that dollop of heaven
sent riding upon a scollop shell 
A shot of loving grace
with all existence
trembling in the vacuum
of time and space 
That love from above
that burns with anticipation 
I just can’t quit it
I’m in the thick of it
Love without question
as she turns
a tantric glance
in my direction
From the storm
of a tragic past 
a heathen reborn
upon the threshold 
of her heavenly thighs 
My earthly kingdom 
for an everlasting taste
of love’s perfection
seen in the reflection 
of her emerald eyes

~ by David B. Redpath © 2018-22

MD POPE ( Most Disturbed Person On Planet Earth) ….. well, as for being the ACTUAL , definite, like “THE ONE” .. decidedly most sinister person on planet earth might be pushing it a little .. but I’ve always been submissive and accommodating to the lesser forms of exaggeration, so I’d say it really is a tossup between me and the malicious asshat here; absolutely it really is a tossup. If you speculate between either one of us, the person who is being agitated, and therefore is messed up because of agitation; or the person that does the messing up; who does it as a way of calming down their own agitation, which rages like a tempest inside their head at least 30 hours a day … he simply wishes to force it upon me now and then, for relief.. In triumph , taunting , a toothy , sinister and completely malevolent grin stretched precariously across his too thin face .. I imagine as soon as the oppressive weight of his Uber darkness and agitation is hoist upon me his whole body relaxes in the absence of that negativity . Still not fit for public consumption but somehow tons more palatable then he had previously been ; he lays down on my bed and drifts off into a comfortable , unbothered sleep. I don’t have a clear mental make up of him yet ( or profile ) due to several, as of yet foggy ideas or concepts I had yet to conclude based upon my compulsive and near obsessive observation of him. Though Inobserved him mostly to ensure my continued safety and survival ; I fathomed that the agitator , though always grossly bullied by his peers in life but who had become an aggressor on my small, kind , non threatening form in the solitary confines of my home, most likely did these cruel antics , taunts and tricks as a way of ridding himself of some of his own inner turmoil . He was one of the most tormented ( possibly demonically .. I’m not ruling anything out yet ) brings I had ever encountered. I remember once after only making his aquaintance for a few months I awoke in the guest bedroom of his house ( when he HAD. A house ) with the distinct feel of dread and impending doom. I got out of bed and crept to the kitchen , barely sure which way to navigate in this large foreign house and came upon him in the kitchen .He was naked with tube socks on; his eyes magnified by half by his thick glasses . He crept about clutching the gun and moving in circles, always circling his face around to point the gun in the direction his back had just been . His nerves were shot, he would shake and lose poise and swng the gun around wildly, his hostile eyes sweeping the room , accusing it of being predatory , of conspiring against him. I’m not sure why this didn’t alarm me , but I thought he was most likely having a schizoid episode and needed some calm, kind words . I approached Im in a calm manner, both of my hands visible and started crooning to him in a soothing manner, taking the rifle and talking to him as a mother might a little child , with compassion and love ad tranquility . I noticed his lips were moving in a constant silent dialogue and it seemed he was talking to himself about all the demons in the room. In his case they were aliens , and as soon as he seen my maternal and calming demeanor his face crumpled and he sunk onto a loveseat, allowing his hair and head to be coddled like a child’s and letting me take over and care for him like a child . To this day I wonde what went through my mind in those moments preceding this one, and how much danger I might have been in. I even wondered if my compassion was such that it endangered my own well being and if I might be a little off myself .  Part two 2morrow

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