De-caffeinated #1

There is a little breathless flower
That blooms at night in my garden.
Radiant under the moon
I can’t take my eyes away.

When morning comes,
I see the petals, withered in half blossom.

There is a little mango tree in my heart,
Hung under the weight of fruit that glistens in the morning dew.
My mouth betrays my hunger.

When noon comes,
I see the worms.
The fruit ripened before maturity.

There is a wild stallion in my body,
A beast of passion with a tongue of fire.
At high noon it is war champion Lwanda Magere:
The scent of its sweat is the memory of ambrosia.

When evening comes
It is a lazy donkey.
Jealous. Stubborn. My tame hyena.

There is a bubbly babbling brook of life in my soul.
The waters are a memory of my father,
The suffering God of infinite comfort.

And when I sleep,
a strange poet in shepherd sandals offers me tea,
and tells me strange tales of a new creation.

There is a contract of financial freedom on my desk,
Between me and a messenger of light,
When I am faint from work in the noonday sun,
It whips me up and demands I go on.

On Sabbath light, I see the fat demon
Mammon, he feeds me enough so I don’t die
But just morsels, lest I strengthen and fly.

There is a little window into a hall of grand visions
It opens up when I seat at my table
When I am despairing it gives me novelty,
Shows me friends at dinner and strangers laughing.

When my money runs out,
Alas. It is only my phone.
An expensive brick I treasure more than sleep.

Tell me, O Eve, ancient mother
Did we win?
Are we like God yet?
Why is my body a riot of passions?
Why can’t I sleep? Why can’t I wake up?
Why am I horny when alone? And bored when with company?

Why am I saddest after eating?
Angriest when comforted? And most comfortable when violated?

O wise father Adam, silent sinner, son of God.
Why have you so little to say in my defence?
If I say you are a dream, will I be free?
If I forget you, will I be reborn
As the creature of life I know myself to be?