TAE Gallery: artwork, photography, poetry, songs, and book arts


Golden Horn

Remember when Joshua blasted his horn,
'cause the Lord Almighty had lost His patience
With the Jericho folk, who was Israel's rival?
The walls just had to tumble and fall.
Reminds me of my first vagina,
A tough opponent, but could not last.

This is no bravado, what I said last,
But a very brave look at the mouth of the horn,
Whose hunger had longed for sweet vagina,
Who writhed and throbbed in quiet patience,
Waiting through seasons Summer to Fall,
As though Time were mocking, as a rival.

While speaking of this limpid rival,
As he races to the finish in a heat dead last.
Before the final tape he'll fall
And never hear the winning horn,
For he will not have shown the patience
To win the prized, sweet vagina.

A young man dreams of this vagina,
And seeks to fight off any rival.
By withholding it in, and a lot of patience
(And hoping that his patience will last),
He'll boast of his deeds and toot his horn,
Waiting for Jericho's walls to fall.

But just like a landslide will tumble and fall,
The moment will come when sweet vagina
Opens the door and sounds the horn,
Rejecting the real and imagined rival.
Down are the barriers, sweet at last,
Away are the chains, away the patience.

Yet with stillness and soft patience,
Lest into animal lust he fall,
Remembering to make it last
As moistly opens the sweet vagina
(For which there is no earthly rival),
A triumphant blast from the mouth of his horn.

A savored kiss from the sweet vagina,
A memory that has no rival,
A lingering glow from a golden horn.

 

 

© 2003 Thomas A. Ekkens