Turn a little,
Flower to the light,
Align with the Universe…
Just a walk in the park in the evening—
The chaos in the mind melts away in the cooler breeze,
Summer flowers layer the air with heavy sweetness,
And the streetlight plays a game of golden shadows with the trees.
There are still blessings,
Wherever we may see,
But time, it runs and leaps and bounds away—
We have to do,
We have to dare,
We have to save the Earth!
In 10 years we may not recognize our lands and seas!
What will you do?
Who will notice the light on the flowers,
But for the quiet ones?
Who will think of the green we need,
But for the dreamy ones?
Why then is the world tilted loud?
Why doesn’t love trump fear?
When will the healing come?
There is an edge to hope,
That even when it floats away,
Clings as a shadow of wonder,
To the corners of the spirit.
Let it flower within you today,
Let it rise.
Smile at hope,
And hope will smile upon you…
Who knows what the two of you can do?
Did you know that blood smells of rust?
That our starburst mangled bodies die to awaken?
That in all the liminal space of time—
Truths unfold in ontological puzzlement,
Amazed at their own impertinence?
For what is anything amid infinity?
And where’s the space for infinity in our small is?
The renderings of visions wild,
All these data streams of forever dreams—
Will we ever truly reconfigure?
There is a silent, screaming, streaming smile—
There is a thunderous rapture building—
Just out of reach.
Walk into the whirlwind—
From afar I watch a mansion crumble,
I watch the inconceivable take shape,
And somehow, I am strengthened in my self.
Somehow, I feel the essential taut granite in me,
The one that holds up the truth.
Today I know that if there is to be any hope,
We each have to ascend.
Find our power, flex it,
And go heal this earth of ours.
In the crevasses of our world,
Where we’ve allowed one, maybe two lines of trees,
Birds live out their epic lives,
The orangutan withers.
If I can’t dance,
My world stops a bit.
If I don’t dance,
My universe shrinks a little.
Any stillness achieved is stale.
Dance is primordial joy given form.
Without that joy, what’s meaning?
The IS will flow back.
Flow with vibrant joy.
Reach for bliss…
Glimmering sunlight liquid in the treetops,
A friendly crystal drizzle.
A huge sigh envelops the world…
We steal hummingbird flowers,
For the Gods.
Wings flutter in question…
Flowers bend and sway,
Hummingbirds divebomb the other,
Fat little squirrels chasing each other.
The branch sways,
What is there within me today, that is deep and dark?
Complex chocolate foamy loam,
Worm dwelling, corporate shelling,
Ruined lives buried in glee?
What in me was dark is grey under siege,
In moments of such madness as these,
A poem is a silent angel of futility,
Parading unpretty in the hall of shame…
What is this world of melee?
What is proven if anything of fire?
There is but a chink of gold,
In each pearly sunset mound of flesh.
What is my glory, my honor?
Through words hot and cold,
I fly in incomprehensible circles,
And make my futile art of—
Today I have no words but those arranged before.
Today darkness crawls into the crevasses of me,
Today I wish for a different me,
One not so wounded, one not me!
What right has the light to entice?
What broken vision of perfection it peddles so unashamed?
What utter lie will ‘normal’ next tell?
Your healing, it fails—
Your promises, they fail.
Your bond frays.
Your words are charred wool.
There is no sense left in our electricity.
When you slip into the void,
When you rip open to the dark,
When blood pools in your hollows,
Is it not an inevitable relief?
I wander in waste,
I shout out in haste,
I cry when I could laugh!
And reach out, still I reach out—
The gulf between the sublime and me,
Wavers some days,
Then dances away,
Delighting in just the prospect!
That long leap—
Hangs in the shadows,
Darker than dark,
Lighter than light!
Just the inward smile,
Just the breath-spirit wide,
Just a little crinkle in the heart,
Is all I have to show—
That the heart of the world had called to me one day…
Reach for sublimity with my abstract, sublime book of micro-fiction with the rave reviews: Broken Shadows!
Happy reading! 🙂
Come now, it isn’t so bad!
Didn’t we just decide to emerge?
Didn’t we just say, we would reach — high?
Don’t hide now, don’t fade.
It’s our time to shine.
It’s terrifying, yes; what if you get seen?
But darling, how will you see yourself unless you open up?
None of it matters, none of the hurt.
Just call out to the dawn moon,
Dance in starlight,
Trail a little of the ocean on your palm…
All our ashes will whirlwind in rainbows,
And we will be, what we were meant to be:
Words tell you that here, this is the thing,
That circumscribed within me is a something…
When you go and look,
You see a too-muchness that cannot possibly be described…
So you ask them,
Are you sure you have said the thing?
Oh yes, they exclaim,
We are right, we are what is!
You stare into your ever-shifting mindscape,
Into the indescribable deep…
And know, that words cannot follow you here!
You indulge them though—
You tell then,
Yes, you said it true!
You are right, you are what is,
Without you, the world could not be seen.
Suppose the way lay through the air?
Would you with your pink lightning wings,
Go charging across the ocean,
Straight to what you thought was the heart of the world?
The tears of cut grass smell so mellifluous!
Everything spills tears today – from me.
I imagine you at least, free—
Soaring, with those crackling wings,
Reaching at last that space of my torment;
Of my deepest longing.
The flavor of loneliness
Is a smoky vanilla
Without the sweet,
Without the usual milkiness.
There’s only the insubstantial echoes of sweetness,
Within intangibles so intense, the very self evaporates.
The flavor of loneliness
Is an intense bitter chocolate.
Dizzying, electrifying, giddy.
Coating the tongue with desperation,
Buzzing like static that never coalesces
Into the image of a connected whole.
The flavor of loneliness
Is condensed milk gulped right from the can.
The fiery sweet that nearly knocks you out.
A trance of resounding silence.
That goes on and on,
Into a black nothingness.
(Tomorrow, is a special day for me and my love, so sharing this personal poem with you!)
Within the tactility of you and me,
Within the dark cocoon of love,
Is a beat;
Counting out the moments,
Meting out the feelings,
With which we confront our realities.
It is a dance,
And a race,
Where losing and winning,
Indistinguishable from the other.
The skin tells the truth,
Does it welcome touch?
The eyes tell the truth,
Do they soften,
Or turn away?
Scolding despair away,
We run away and to,
We sing in harmony or off,
But melt, melt into together!
And there’s always something,
A little out of reach…
The whole truth can never be seized.
Our two arcs intersect,
To send out sparks,
That beguile the mind into thinking,
This island of us is the whole world,
We to each other is all there is and will be.
But for this time,
That is the sweet truth.
The pen connects me to the moment,
The ghost behind the mirror hums—
A most enticing tune.
Words blazing fire!
Every coat of fear that recedes,
Reveals a vibrant unknown me.
Memories preserved in pressed flowers,
The flowers know it is not time yet…
When the air feels safe, is when you can truly breathe.
So much hidden and beautiful,
So many paths to travel…
The bedrock of the self,
Quivers in delight,
Twirls to the heavy beat,
The last dregs
Of fasting days—
The pulsing dreams
Of sleepy days—
Is there a secret,
Floating in the moments,
Of each passing day?
Is there a solution,
To chained existence,
A child wails,
A hummingbird chirps,
A car honks.
The world turns,
Our fears and joys.
My new book of microfiction, Broken Shadows is out. Take a look!
Red frangipani in exuberant bloom,
Blood clustered on sky,
Sharp shadows perfume.
The rainbow people will come they say,
They will set it right.
What if you were one,
But got trapped in the pretty colors of the world?
What if you were one,
And they captured you?
What if you were one,
But gave into despair?
What if we are all of the rainbow,
But got enmeshed in the ordinary,
And lost the lance of light?
What if they made us so afraid,
That we feared stepping out?
And the crown of glory withered away?
What if all you wanted was a little light in your life first,
Before you took up the hard work of healing,
And held the ring of radiance at bay?
Were you then still of the rainbow born?
The one who could right all wrongs?
Heal the earth and make us smile?
What would make the rainbow people rise up and play?
How will they usher in a brighter day?
How will the prophecies ring true?
I count rainbows,
I watch the wind,
And I pray, pray, pray!
Do you want to read and review my book of short stories, Broken Shadows?
What will they do when they wake up,
From their dreams of fire red?
When they see their blood-stained hands,
When they see the ash all around,
Of the burnt home that used to house us all?
That rallying cry, that self-righteous anger,
The hurt that fueled their rage—
Will it still protect them?
From the reality of the nightmare they have wrought?
In their quieter moments,
Will they be able to face themselves?
Could they smile at the mirror when they see themselves?
How will they live with themselves,
Now that they are awake?
Or will they never wake at all?
– Sunlight symphony.
Flock of sparrows,
Flutter up through the dust.
Your face is daylight,
Learn why don’t you, to flow free?
Emotions too big for the body,
Carried across the infinite sea—
Your hands caress the breeze.
When will healing come,
Is that what you wonder?
With your faraway look,
Your voice trailing off into a book…
Your spirit is fire,
Feel it. Be it.
Be your own healer,
You – who are every infinity!