Lorenzo Buford



Laments Of A Male Mother (excerpts)



Dark Diva's Lament

Should I bring them into these worlds of darkness:
my passions that became my bastard off springs;
my misshaped thoughts, the children of my water
who are like black sheep in a family closet
called man with designer skeletons?
Who shall love them, hold them ever so close to their Heart,
recite into their ears that are filled with the noises of the world
the words of the Life that will awaken them
from their slumber in physical forms?
Will they exist in cluttered black and white prints,
some whore's rain soaked tissue paper
or a camouflaged covering for frustrated freaks
jacking off in a straight scene?
Should I bring my bastard children,
my thoughts, my fractured mirror pieces, my sound,
my light, my poems into these worlds of daimons of the mind?
Will man, love them, cultivate their existence,
and call them Me?

   I dance in the mouths of gods, these inner and outer dimensional beings who will gather my selves in a sacred name that I will sing as I sit on a mountain as a sun like a Janus, looking forward to the Beyond and backwards for my begotten sons. The Old Ones speak my name in harsh tones not knowing I am the Dancer from the Dance.
   I am from the Silence.
   I am in-between the words these gods construct to imprison my names.
   Know this, in Silence, there is nothing, no separation, no dualities, no gods, no demons only Silence.

NEXT: Sarcophagus of the Ancestors


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