Tag: Mystic

The Bridegroom Cometh (poem)

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

I don’t even want to be kind to this
Sad man. If my god were to come

For me in the same moment this
Sad man grabs for my hand in the

Parking lot, desperate now the date is
Ending—and my god were to show up

Between the parked cars all masculine in
Twilight purple, head to holy toe, I

Would wrench my hand away from this
Sad man and give myself to god rirght there–

Slut-in-the-parking-lot—while the
Sad man cries and watches me

Fucking my way to apotheosis, spread
Eagle on the hood of a dirty white Prius.

-M. Ashley

Universal Piggyback

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

A very wise Indian fellow, or an Indian fellow we are supposed to think is wise, got awfully judgey when he said it is a terrible misconception that the governing force of the Universe is love. I mean, how sappy could we be? But the thing is, I know the Universe, have met it in a her/him person many times, and I can tell you for certain she is love-powered. She especially loves group hugs and jumping on your back for a piggyback ride. She giggles and sometimes covers your eyes as you run and run and run.

-M. Ashley

After a Dream of God in War

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

Traveler in the city convulsion
Where singed clouds and
Sewers perpetually burst

Walk with me the mud wallow
Streets. Hold the starving pigs
Off. Drowned roaches
Burbling and fallen

Down buildings, all the All, this
Rain must be nuclear too.
My god
My legs are giving way and my

White hair is coming out in wet
Tumbles. Take me in a cab mysteriously
Still running to a dry room
A dry bed.

Count my shivering
Eyelashes as I dream of you.

-M. Ashley