Storm of Poseidon in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

And sometimes the inspiration comes from setting your course without a target in sight but rather in mind..

“Storm of Poseidon”

If I were as lithe as the ocean, and my churning waves were collapsing upon your stellar frame, would you collapse with me upon the shore?

Allow me to roll you forward, backward, and fully against my tidal disposition.

I lay here rumbling beneath the black canopy of the moonlight, and I allow your vessel to course across me, over me, and sometimes straight through me.

You look skyward, seeing motes of cosmic light splashing, crashing, and exploding so far off in the distance that you might through their brilliance somehow find your way.

You are the perfection of the moment, a stellar cartographer, and the greatest unrequited love that I might ever charter.

Let me envelop you within the high seas of my desperate caress.

I want you to sail straight and true, an arrow notched and locked and released.

Piercing me clean through.

You own my heart, all the vessels, my lustful capillaries.

Your body is beyond description, and I kiss endlessly the bow of your chest, the hull of your breast, and the mast of your saccharine crest.

I have known so many lovers, so many wonders, and yet you are beyond their scope.

Beyond my hands, as if Poseidon himself might launch his trident to bring you under.

Tear you asunder.

Even the Gods of my realm cannot touch you.

And yet here I am, right next to you, so far from you, and so very much wanting to be next to you. Always laying in the depths, and always lying to myself.

Sink your siren song into my coral shell, and serenade me with your wonders. If I were a shark I would devour your blood as if it were the flushed crimson symbol of my passion for the pursuit of you.

I would smell you, taste you, and chase you.. forever wanting to leave my marks upon your supple, porcelain reef.

Do you hear me in the watchtower?

Do you spot me in the lighthouse?

Do you signal for me with your hourglass eyes and your bonfire strands of hair?

Emeralds and sapphires, gold bouillon, silver bars, and chests full of coinage lay within my stretching reach.

And yet it is this soft heart, wildfire flare, and locks of love that leave me naked and bare.

Gasping.

Rasping.

And singing your sweet melody in unison.

You are the song of night, the best of what is just and right, and the very center of my storm.

You are the hurricane tearing across my gulf, and I crave only to be your destination.

Staring down the coil of your swarm.

Dead set and so far from it, I want to be the only thing left in your eye.

Without category, without quest, and without regret you are my muse.

And I am your ocean.

Within your sight, darling, well, you are the treasure I long for and cherish.

And when it comes to you, my love.

I am sunk.

Again.

© Brian Milici
July 27, 2015

Real Life Update:

I’m doing well. Randi and her husband (met her on OpenDiary back in 2002? I’ve met a lot of people from OD in real life!) came to New Orleans for a week. Was fun to see her again.

I had the best meal of my life Thursday night with Sam and Steve. They’re packing, moving out the 31st, and moving into their new house August 5th. I’ve been there everyday helping them.

Friday we went to karaoke.

And I got hit on more that night than I have in my entire life.

And every single girl? Was there with their boyfriend. What the hell..?

Why are you flirting with me if you have a boyfriend. Bars bother me at times like that.

The one gal I thought was single that was flirting? Sam and Steve have been on me to meet local girls. Go talk to them. Throw myself out there. So I did. She was in a booth, and there was no one directly across from her. On the inside of her was another girl. Across from her was a guy. I walked over to the empty spot across from her and asked for her number. The guy angrily said, “I’m her fucking husband.”

I apologized, and politely walked away. His friend, I guess, was playing pool and shouldered into me hard. And said, “Yeah, you better fucking leave.”

I’m glad Steve wasn’t there to see that. Or Enrique. That would have been bad. I just wanted to leave and go home. I was done.

However, I did sing new songs. First time ever I didn’t do a Better Than Ezra song.

My Karaoke Song List Was:

Fuel’s “Hemmorage”

Simple Mind’s “Don’t You Forget About Me”

Vertical Horizon’s “Everything You Want”

The last song this cute girl came up and sang with me randomly. (Yes, she had a boyfriend.)

I was going to do “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls, but karaoke was over.

Just as well.

Waiting to get my mother’s remains and her death certificate.

And then I set up an appointment with my surgeon once that’s done and go see when I’ll get cut on.. 3 more major surgeries if no complications. 18 months. Physical rehab. I can do this.

I can fucking do this.

I don’t want to go back on that cold steel table.

I can fucking do this.

Today I walked around Lafreniere Park twice.

Took me two hours.

I walked 8 miles.

Not bad for a guy without an ACL, a torn meniscus, and two horrific legs? heh.

I can fucking do this.

How is everyone?

I finally wrote something!

Peace out, my friends.

May you always find your smile.

Last updated July 28, 2015