THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD REPLIES

There is no dream on Walden’s Pond

where once blue-green waters

lapped the shores noisily

in the liquid swirl of an October wind.

Long gone is Neruda’s verse,

the vision of the isle he called home;

the salty breeze, seaweed and sand

he found in the rugs, in his bed

reminding us the way the ocean

ignores our being.

It just continues on, timeless, alone.

No, there are no dreams,

no hopes, no desires,

just the whispering of the lonely sea

counting each grain of sand

until the end of tides.

So really, there wasn’t much to sell, just the constant ocean pull as it

threw out its waste on countless shores: shells, dead plants, ships that

dared to roam on its waves, then crushed for its arrogance, drift wood, even

human souls, all cast upon the shores. So what I sold was waste; wasted lives

and their deepest sin. Until that is I met you. You, all green eyed innocence

desiring the sweetness of life, alive with song. But Morrigan, that “Damned

Queen”, she saw you, possessed you with her false dreams and shattered my

Hopes for eternal life.

Yes, its true, before she could take you I snuck into your room, it was the eve

of your wedding, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except to drown in

your kiss, to bathe in your woman’s scent and make you mine!

Yes, you screamed at my audacity, at my atrocity as you mounted me and

begged for release as we rocked undulating like ocean waves and we made our

blood pact. I took you again and again and we floated on the moon. All the while

you cursed me with your tormented rage. I think it was this rejection that

caused me to finally give in to Morrigan’s demand. She banished me to remain

forever under the sea, pinning ceaselessly for your bloodless white, creamy

skin; for the shape of your breasts nestled against my chest. Dreaming of your

emerald green eyes and the beauty of your face; hungry for the taste of your

still innocent lips where songs of the Moors play on.

What else could I do?

In protest, I sold the world.

Yes, because I could, but even more

cause you were still there

and I couldn’t have you!

Maybe like everything else,

I too will wash up on the shore.

Sins shaped as drift wood,

wrapped in sea weed,

smelling of salty decay.

Then I will come for you my love.

~~redzone 5.24.05~~