Our Image

All rights to art Dawid Planeta

“Let us make man in our image” – Genesis 1:26

Who are you?

I stand inside the seal, defiance rising from the ground, and I ask the question, I inquire my wrist bare, and yes unbound. Who are you, that brings me here, your barren womb, no answer clear. Who is our, and is she nice, does she protect me with her soft touch, is her whisper in my prayers all night? Where is this, you’ve brought me too, oh man, this man, I feel a fool. And is this love oh G_D of prey, that pecks and pulls my faith away. Who are you, I stand inside, this seal, of salt, mixed so quiet. The dark, so dark, a new mooned night, my Judas goat sent to find that angel of light. I stand inside the seal, to your, or our, I ask what’s right.

Who is this our, where is this us? The theologians have disappeared into a worm filled dust, baiting each other with bitter scorn, of crosses and cycles, and vegetarian scorn. I stand inside the seal still tough. With bluster bellowed, in defiant trust. Is wisdom patient, is love kind, the balance to the question is hidden in the find. Cold so cold. Inside the seal, this father, this beggar stands shimmering steel. I will not deal, no Adonai I will not deal!

A simple lesser question as I stand inside the seal, do I dare let “our” holiness, try and make a deal. It could be just this mystery, that makes me have to kneel, but how many is one of you, and which one of you is real? As I edge a little closer, as a fool is known to do, I see plurality in your likeness is it in my likeness too. Then the universe in spinning and the lights are growing dim, and with a sudden movement, there’s a mirror, and a face that looks to be my twin.

“You’re the man of all our images, the creature of our heart, whisper’s muses to my consciousness, flowing sparks upon my heart. You’re the prey that pecks at heaven, and pulls, thunder from its perch, you are the spirit of our likeness, made manifest on earth. Who are you?

She dances in my lineage, when he laughs he crafts my heart, wonder children of the womb and flame, born love unto our hearts, when I look into their glowing eyes, I see no answer clear, just the images of paradigm, of what’s been always here!

Who are you? – 09.25.2017

For Susan who gave me the idea! – 09.25.2017 – דָּנִיֵּאל


SIX


Photo Courtesy of Panoramio

You summoned me six fold white art for an ark, and belabored me questions of favor. The blessing of passion, divining a core, a cost of the treasure of labor. Why mass me together and feel with my heart, why guess at your creations endeavor. The stillness around me instinctual law, the call that still echoes forever. Historical pathways, an altar for kisses, a cut on a rose when I’m tender. Affective deflection what is, or is hidden, your spirits of senses forbidden. You’ve spoken of tortures that break into wounds of tender young lovers lost in a swoon, beauty worth stolen under the moon, and still do they not find my pleasure.

Six times you struck me, and asked for a sense, a body to warm you with love as a gift, while interest is building on life as a breath, a common affection with G-D in your wound. What curse of emotion, religion as farce, to say loves a feeling, that’s felt in your heart, a stranger seduction that cuts when it’s done, allegiance to feeling, not owing to none. Six times did you travel, and fail in your mind, and still you did not find love an answer, division of grace, a grief of black lace, a flame, a psalm lost in shame, by the talons of raptors.

In six beats a rhythm, a time of true might, a place of instinct formed before night, a constant that keeps now forever. A point, a plot by six times forever, a love of law written in charm, by craft, by skill in sound before dawn by ether. A touch, a start, indefinite shine that lifts me from my knee, and breaks me now a man, not so clever. A puzzle, a gift, six times a seal, a star, that open heart, now wrapped forever. –דָּנִיֵּאל – 05.03.2014

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