im an angel full of dark a demon full of light one on my left the other on my right a bastard in the middle
angel's name is c.s. after lewis demon's name is charles after bukowski bastard's middle is named kim.
theres an outer and an inner a shade between the grey
the kindest sort of naughty the raunchiest sort of reverent the dreamiest cynic the most jaded kind of resilient hoper
and every reason (my grafted) family tree thinks me damned to hell is every reason why im heaven bound but every reason why you think me paradise headed is every thing im trying to reckon with my night.
yes. i AM a poet who weeps at falling leaves and stares slack-jawed at the sky but im also the jackass who takes irreverence one/two/three step(s) too far and the pervert who is tied to devilish delights.
i don't worship any name-ed god (even humanism smacks of some kind of pre-prescribed practice) (and anyways im tainted from being gagged on jesus and his goddamned fuckin' cross) but still each day i take the time to sit and breathe the here and now because it's balance that i seek between my outer inner in betweens of c.s. charles and kim.
keep my lust in check - let it dance dirty in the cage ive built for it to keep it well behaved - but sometimes the demon charles whispers through the fermentation of a night and it flies free like some kind of angel in heat with an impish bastard's grin.
my halo is held intact by horns my forked tail kept from lashing by my not going to tat em on my back- wings.
i will weave you the most lovely gown of words all true all meant -- but in the next i'll shred them off to take you then and there
and for so long there was always some kind of holy battle waging 'tween these seeming splits one side always winning and always getting / causing pain
somewhere in the midst of finding has been this calming of the seas
where the dark angel c.s. and the sentient demon charles now allow the full truth bastard kim to float a line of calm alarming swayful balance in the breeze of their windy incantations of lust desire poetry inner peace and all things seeming contradictory.
angel demon bastard we are coming one.
(rothko moment from my airplane seat in the sky above the sea -- the sky as it was... the light and dark as it is)
- kim thompson. mon 24 oct @ 13.13 seoul. s. korea