Sentinel Poetry (Online) #36 – November 2005

Online Magazine Monthly…since December 2002. ISSN 1479-425X




Matt Leporati


The Artist


Her pencil moves swiftly across the paper,

Capturing my features between bounding lines.

An illusion crafted from airy nothing,

A creatio out of the

Nihilo of a

Blank page.

Goddess, giver of form,

Cloaking the potentiality of her Father Chaos

With the images of the universe,

The illusion of matter, which encloses Truth --

That which is Not.

Artist of Infinity! Sketch my mortal form

With those delicate hands; stretch Your vision

Forth and create me anew in Your image.

Forge me as a specter from Your mind,

A representation of a higher dimension

That is Not.

A Nothing clothed with the raiments of beauty,

Enclosed on all sides by Your Divine Imagination.





The flashing eyes of my love hang in the gloom

Of existence.

Two pinpoints of light – radiance,


Among the dead,

A double planet of worlds to be discovered,


With the glistening temptation of Ripening Fruit,


My soul to split in twain and enter these twin


Entwining pair with pair,


Life out of the stars. Beyond, the joy of infinite


Informs the dance; a warm and loving force pours


Two doors of perception. The road towards being


Road to Damascus.

Salt tears for joy I cry. Life redeemed with this


Turned to sweetness, like our experience.

Pilgrimage, growing ripe. The first taste of fruit.



My serpentine soul curls around the Tree,

Eager to gain Knowledge of the pairs.

Descent of the soul

Into matter to secure its redemption; all life

Redeemed with a kiss

Softer than light, brighter than sound,

Beyond, beyond, beyond.

Debate not the image of the image beheld in youth’s

first love,

For no words describe its radiance. Before she


My life was bleak – a darkness punctuated only at last


By two bright stars that marked my path

Through Heaven.

Now her arrival has mounted my spirit higher

Than infinity – a mighty pillar is my will,

The lingam

Of Shiva, prepared to yield itself to Her.

A third eye? Doors of perception fully cleansed

By Outis.

We are absent, our souls abstract

Themselves out of existence, vanishing

In the blazing light of the Gods.

Saul, Saul, why do you love Me?

Why – ?

It must needs be. This love is its own justification,

Fulfilling the will that drives life.

My will.

Had our hearts no purpose, we two would ne’er have

met, but


Requires us to make use of its gifts.

An afterthought gifted with foresight,

A joy built upon sorrow,

A struggle built upon peace.

None of these are Man, but each is a fragment of his


The vulture devours all, and tickles as he torments.

The question mark confronts all seekers, defying

Rationality with reason.

Cease the ravings! Hesitate not, and live!

In the richness of Love and Death, let us surrender

Our lives to the Gods, to the true Self, to


Love is the law, love under will.

Fragments dance before our reason, further fragmented

By consciousness;

Life’s confusion would overwhelm if Man

Were not adept at lying to himself.

The hope of ending confusion lies in perceiving

Totality, in realizing the Unity of the universe

In the light of Gnosis, in reassembling the pairs,

In climbing the Tree anew by virtue of its fruit,

The Tree of Life.

Leap over knowledge and rise to the star dance!


My fruit has brought light back into this world,

Enabling the unlimited affirmation of all that is.

My fruit.

The pearl of perfect value, the jewel in the lotus

Of Maya.

AUM Mani Padme Hum.

And yet we are apart, both

Aspects of existence – Yin and Yang –

Individual, eternal, complete,

Our unity cast in the form of male

And female, cloaked in clay,

Concealed in blessed


The eternal affirmation --

Dissolution of self,

Assertion of self --

Is secured by the token of the Gods,

The prize

For which I have suffered the heartaches

Of a lifetime, which I would gladly endure again,

For which I have explored new worlds

And emerged with the treasure of Love,

For which all poets since the dawn of time

Have composed hymns of praise,

For which all men have labored

Who desire to end desire:

A kiss,

The brushing of two lips,

Rejoining the pairs

And allowing our twin serpent souls

To entwine anew.




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