The First Steps

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Wound Flaming and Transforming an Angel into Heaven --


a wound – flaming
in the doorframe –

noiseless webs slender and moving in wind


angles of motion


the brutal, potent and final

combinations -- a stabbing dreaming heaven --



trickster fluid before a mute

object withholding desire --

my mind lit with narcotic joy

her little fingers on

my pulse

enjoying without destruction

an elemental feeling

rising up

inside an already—

forgiven idea


resonant - an enlargement anticipates the participation of knives --

eyes and hips sulking into

velvet music


two from equilibrium –



an oceanic width --- blue vast wet

twining space trundled down

into breaks and

gaps --- shining up --

there’s insight -- and gap --- breath – then a sinking into phosphorescent knowledge

all emanation

and dark


swift illumination/ coals on the head and in the mouth --

dancing as Chango dances strongly pulling down wet thunderbolts into his balls

heavy with desire taut with flashing nerves --- incrementally alert as

She walks nimbly
into the room

there’s a red hat on her head
she’s smiling at her growing reflection eaten up -- a dialogue between spectator and sensation -- she’s conscious now of being watched and desired –

from afar as she tells me to watch and be quiet now -- and the room is torn with femininity unbridled and
wild delicate in her fingers as she places an oil on her lips – a red detachment that teases at my eyes – waiting to be desired and knowing what desire can be--

a spectral
fire – startles my heart and cock -- no longer a dream image now --
a pulse radiating
out at her corseted waist -- her ass and legs shaped into my hands by distant razors my eyes-- touch and desire -- sever our separation and
we are consuming
each other

the hot and wet sensations as I move my body along her
entirely ---

swollen within a fragile electrical dream--
her face distorts
red moans and
need -- the deepening that tilts and roars into my ears

on top of me -- gliding along my perceptive body
elastic and sharp as heaven -- soft and gentle she’s determined to provoke --

I’m hard in her hands -- she pulls and teases
evoking and praying

a silence fills my head and I am speechless waiting to know---

tears fill the silence and I am inside the longest minutes of love

(c) Max Wolf Valerio - March 12,2004 -

For my lover - she knows who she is --

* Chango, above in part 5, is the Yoruban Orisha who personifies male virility, the dance, fire, power (creative and destructive), masculine potency (see virility), the tongue and penis, truth (and the shadow of lies), the "gift of gab". He fights for truth and justice, is a King, a supreme strategist, an incorrigible womanizer as well as an adept and passionate lover. Chango traded the table of Ifa (divination) for the ability to dance, as he knew that he could charm more women by doing so! He is charming, courageous, and a charismatic orator. His priests often dance with fire on their heads, or in their mouths while in trance. They also, if male, plait their hair in women's braids, even though their Orisha is considered the consummate avatar of masculine energy. Even so, he is vain, and considered to be extremely beautiful -- these are not contradictions in Yoruba land! Chango also symbolizes trial by fire and transformation... Chango is my Orisha, or "guardian angel" or literally - ori -sha - the "master of my head". Kawo -- Kabiosele! Maferefun Chango...

note: I will republish this poem with more detailed html when I have the patience to do it. For now, the line gaps and sometimes breaks are approximate to the actual version on paper... and some dashes were introduced to add the gap that the missing line breaks or line gaps - could not. -- MWV