Monk in Your Bedroom

By: Gus Victoria

He wears no cowl

Nor a tonsure,

Yet he prays

As fervently as they

In the chapel,

Though he

Recites his words

In your bed,

The temple is before him,

Adoration in his heart,

It races at your touch,

Simple, deep joy

In that careless touch,

Released in a sigh,

Anxiety and insecurity

Plague the goddess

As in her beauty he basks,

She pushes the supplicant aside,

She banishes him

From her presence,

Through her tears

She banishes him,

Confused he leaves,

Hurt he turns,

The monk in your bedroom,

Soon the memory you regret.

Unalloyed Words

By: Gus Victoria

Unalloyed words,

Devoid of pretension,

No inhibition,

Freed without coercion

To wreak havoc

On the field

That the heart has plowed

In violation of Fate’s decree,

Selfish the harvest planned,

More the desires rampant

Giving wing to those words,

Another sip,

Another line,

Time makes distance,

A growing barrier

Space cannot breach,

“I..” began the mantra,

spoken in “love”

that “you” would hear.

Will Be As Will Be

By: Gus Victoria

Dreams are dangerous interlopers,

Uninvited guests to a grand feast

Celebrating a new joy found,

Buried in the past it dug itself out,

The dangerous vision of old,

There is no gamble to be made

For a heart must forever risk,

But never seek to lose,

She wears a red dress while you wear blue,

Her hair is down,

Yours is not,

She and I dance,

As I playfully resist,

You and I sit,

As a broken heart you nurse,

And in the mending,

Without permission

Become queen.

She still haunts those rough borders

Of my tortured imagination,

Yet you in each kiss

Create a new reality,

Each time love is made

Another memory is banished,

It is as it is willed,

Though I will be

As will be.

The Great Illusion

By: Gus Victoria

That you matter is

The greatest illusion.

That your voice counts,

The mass delusion.

A ballot to court,

A mandate to ignore.

The democracy of oligarchs

Is fantasy they give,

As they fuck their whore.

Money from the poor,

Power to the rich,

They take and take,

They rape and fake

Morality on a payroll.

On our backs

The Congressman’s palanquin,

And the Senator his twin,

Pimps and prostitutes,

Jacking off the Corporate dick.

Keeping us dumb,

Sending us off to war,

Keeping us hungry,

Eyes on a distant shore,

You can distract us,

The media and its circus,

But the day will come,

An end to your fun,

We the people,

Will find our voice,

We the people,

Will break the illusion.

We the people,

Will carry you no more.