AMPHIBIOUS
amphibian
crimson aura
fire when he’s grounded
an oceanic male
a man, period
electrons, we’re all
searching for my polar opposite
found her, and with her
love
she is balance
her coastal fluids to blue
a proton to cool the crimson
she is love
love
amphibious
in from the sea
to make assessment
of the sand
lovely queen in the morning
bathes my mind and skin
adjusting to the polar opposite
of her gravity
it arrives
as she leaves for the midday
crimson
at fourteen pounds
per square inch
electron gravity
poor male gravity
grit
grain
importance lies
in its continual annoyance,
servitude,
and its latitudes of mastery
balancing the amphibian’s
liquids of arrogance
and humility,
ascending into the
political,
economic
frolics of folly
the sociocultural dynamics
of men
it’s wretched,
sick
but, this too
is a part-
necessity of balance
an array, string,
nucleus of electrons
can be benign,
miraculous,
righteous in the evolution
from potential to kinetic
yes, this is a possible
rational occurrence
but, never a fixture
malignant if fixed or
soldified
as institution
the sweat
and its crimson
saline counterpart:
the fruits of integral movements;
integrity
and the humility of our labours
but, if set
into stationary positions
the children of spoiled arrogance,
the arrogance of ignorance
(to play my words)
comes full circle
as birth
to the dynamic men
and the dynamics
of those men.
no, no-
empires are built
in the palaces of eyes
and their trust
kingdoms are felled
in the places of commerce
and their substitute
for love
legions are victorious
in the warmth of hearts
and their urge to will
above oppression.
Oppresion- to define:
the institution of too much time
as arrays, strands;
as a nucleus of negative energy,
offering a sugared substitute
and commercial love
which is not love at all
therefore
lovely queen in the afternoon
having allowed you to observe
my affairs
(genealogy in motion)
the affairs of men
do you want to see more?
or, will you remove my cardinal cloak
and bleach it
with your phosphorescent
glory?
hang it,
stab it,
burn it,
but please, just
drown it
in your true gravity
your fourteen pounds per square inch
she accomodates me
love
aquatic
she is balance
her coastal fluid
to blue- a proton to
cool the crimson
i return to the sea
masculine,
to pay homage to her
feminine strength
equality
to suckle her nipples,
swirl her aeriolas,
clench her thighs
and grasp midnight
lovely queen in the evening
you have a magnificent back
moans of sincerity
thrusts of integrity
i return to her sea
a pool far too elevated
for lust
and its mire
of misunderstanding
it is here that it presents
its vanity, sense,
and intelligence in motion
it is
love
you remove the knife out of gaius julius caesar
i quench the flames of jeanne d’arc
twin independence
to achieve
what they could not
to couple as lovers
to couple their positions (stances)
to couple it as real; possible
love. martyrs?
no.
humanity in the push
the will
the ability
to live and love under the roof
of one nautical point
together
taking turns teaching
and being taught
painting bronzed oils
in cursive
sepia scriptures
inscribed in our
sepia skin
coupled,
swimming under the roof
of constellations
the one that adorns
the southern cross (crux)
south pacific humidity
and the succulent
fruit pulp
dripping from our
kissing mouths
live
love
live
returning to the sons and daughters
of our anchor point
our saline children
air of pine, mossed infancy
a thicker version
of that molecular structure
of 2:1. grey
fog departs, seperates
us into our independence
so that we may
earn the grit
that pays
for the southern cross
and salivary orgasms
suppled fruit pulp
the erotic intelligence of our love
alone
lonlieness will come soon
but, this is a prerequisite
of grit’s attachment
to push
our righteous endeavours
with our fullest
hearts
taking what we’ve learned
and teaching what we taught
one another
for others
this
and the people we meet on our journies
who inspire us,
aspire us,
will us
in fabulous
unselfishness
the places and trophies
seen and won
memories and knowledge
filled
in our hearts
the cycle
the paths
of our crusades
come to an end
once again
lovely queen in the morning
i love you
welcome home
tell me what you saw
and what you see now
tell me who you met
and who met you
the how and the why
are not on my mind
i just want to hear
and see
the new altitudes of you
come
i have a towel
to dry your hair
and a quilt
to warm you
in from the cold
i have awoke
our saline children
to hear their mother’s
most recent odyssey
to hear their mother:
vanity, sense,
and intelligence in motion
love
i awake early
earlier than most
but, you- as always
have awoken
before me
lovely queen in the morning
may i slide into your balance
coastal fluids
and give you my crimson
to greet you with balance
good morning
her
buttered toast
my steaming roast
we wrap the quilt
around our coupled skin
and walk out
to greet our world
legions of pine
a regiment of waves
and our saline children
in the early silence
of the morning push
i tell you the details
of my most recent toils
triumphs of my odyssey
i tell you the flowers and the nightmares
this rough draft belongs to you
to ensure
that when the story is told
our saline children
are shown usage
when i orate
deliver their tools
potential
to pristine
realistic kinetic
having given the eloquence of your
edited oration
the morning before
if you want to share your secrets
should you need
to confide
then in my heart
what you tell
will remain a secret
in my heart of old
held objectively
held passionately
in its safehaven
hold
amphibious
though on the land
inland
i will return to the sea
will you return
be there
waiting for me?
sea,
you see,
love.
Seth Lombardy’s Amphibious
Or, I Wrote This In 45 Minutes In 1996
Vampires must move with their dirt. Playwright. Questing a postmodern Greek theatre. Currently wrighting Ambrogio The First Vampire.