Free Verse # 59

Her voice lights my silence
like stars in the womb of night.

~

Even in a stormy weather
a bird can still be heard singing.

~

Her hair,
a flame streaming from the palm of dawn,
falling onto the sky.

~

O Beloved,
even your shadow is a beacon to my soul.

~

Over the wing of solitude I glide,
in my ocean churning honey and wine,
painting the whole sky.

~

The flower joyfully surrenders
her scent and essence
to the lips that stroke her heart.

~

An unborn love and yet,
in the thickness of the night
her whisper breezes through my window,
covering me with the warmth of our dawning home.

~

Her swirling skirt becomes a burning disk,
exuding impassioned rays
as fire seeps liquid like golden honey
over the softness of her thighs.

~

If the curves of your lips
were the contours of the sky,
then I am a white flower
perched like a sun in the depth of your mouth,
then I am a drop of honey
like a golden moon waxing and waning
as I wander the length of your tongue.

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Wandering Thought # 14

The deepest and most needful change that my spirit underwent in relation to women is this: that I am repulsed by certain women whose bodies are “picture-perfect,” that I find them unappealing, even ugly, and that I am attracted by certain other women whose bodies leave “something to be desired,” that I find them beautiful and appealing. Appealing is no longer figure-fixated, but soul and heart motivated. Fulfilment is soulful and not just physical. Soul permeates the body, and this is now what my eye is becoming more and more able to see and appreciate. In other words, I am now confident and mature enough to view women as human beings instead of mere objects of my desire. This is, by far, most essential for a boy to develop into manhood, and one of the deepest cultural and educational distortions that I’ve overcome.

A Toast to Solitude

To flow onto your shores, O solitude,
The darkest ocean had I to sail through,
Part its bleak waters with the fortitude
Of an oak which roots deep in the earth grew.

The chalice that shivered now grows heavy,
Full to overflow with milk and honey,
Giving like the sun in the early dawn
In silence spreads joy, bathing sky and lawn.

The breath of heart over the forest wide
Hums through the leaves a loving warmth of light,
Shapes words of fire raining like a tide
Forging the world anew with deep insight.

Solitude is a garden in full bloom
And a beehive where thoughts, as in a womb,
Are gathered from flowers inside to grow
And rise from darkness, burning in full glow.

Free Verse # 58

The axis where the world turns
has always been the ground
graced by the touch of your feet.

So the axis of the world
falls after your heels.

Free Verse # 57

When your kiss snuggles into my ribs,
it rains from a clear sky.

~

You wield my soul like a rainbow,
stroke with its colours
the cheeks of lovers and flowers
as they majestically bloom.

~

Suffocating on my pain I prayed for breath
and the Beloved sent you,
a burning kiss consuming me to ash,
a wind scattering me in the blue.

~

I become a gardener
so that the flowers would nurture me,
soaking their scents and colours into my soul.

I become a poet
and the poems spread my soul
like a blanket of silence
over the desert face.

~

Things done out of love, emanate with love.

~

Mapping the freckles on your skin
with honeyed-kisses,
bright stars which oracular motions
foretell the ebb and flow
of the ocean of my heart.

Free Verse # 56

The water of her moon churns through my soul.

~

Your eyes,
sentient stars guiding me
as I cross the bridge of dreams.

~

In your presence,
drawn into the sweet tide of silence.
The water stills, clears.
Knowing, on butterflies-wings
flutters between our hearts.

~

Your voice, a whirling death-poem,
a prayer intoning a rite of passage,
a shamanic dance encircling the altar
where I am laid, open, ready.

Past & Future

You press your hand against my chest
and my entire past comes gushing
through your palm and fingers,
beating into your heart.

In your eyes I see my future unfold,
wild flowers opening their petals in prayer,
welcoming the dawn,
stars in the womb of heaven
shivering with eternal light.

Honey

You touched my heart
and I became a beehive
and a garden of wild flowers
blissfully weaving perfumed nectar
into golden streams of lust.

~

Within a single drop of honey is contained
the soul of the flower,
the essence of sunlight,
and all the darkness of the hive.

Free Verse # 55

Do not search the forest for twigs,
come, break the branches of my soul
and build your nest deep inside of me.

~

Melting at your touch,
I am dewdrops wept from the eye of dawn,
scattered over your body
as over petals and leaves
and now thirsty to soak deep under your skin.

~

You plant a kiss into my chest
as your dark hair comes over me.
Suddenly my eyes become a fount of stars.

~

Your dark eyes brighten
and the sun crowns the sky.
A cloud of sadness over your face hovers
and the storm suckles all light.

~

Ever rejuvenating
like the star in heaven’s womb,
we touch each other’s hearts
to become forever.

~

O Beloved,
rest my head on the garden of your breasts,
behind your eyes let my tired soul sink and sleep,
bud with endless stars.

~

The silence of the night is pregnant with stars.

~

Churning amid the banks of eternity
I am a mystical ocean
with neither beginning nor end.
No sun can exhaust my being.

~

My palm,
a pool of tears hidden in forest deep
where wild bees and flowers
come to bathe and drink.

~

At the outskirts of the city
I built my hut and there,
enjoying the remnants of the seasons,
I cultivated silence,
deepened in thought.

~

The winds of tomorrow
billowing the sails of my soul…
~

House of solitude.
A lone star burning
in heaven’s palm.
Over the desert
the spread of silence.

~

Burning all night long in my beloved’s palm.
At dawn she kissed me silent,
fell me over the earth,
a blanket of dewdrops.

~

Parched,
an earth for too many seasons
toiling without rain.
Just one kiss from your mouth
and all the nooks of soul burst into greenery.

~

Prisoner of desire.
You unwound my hands and feet,
opened my eyes to the silent full moon.

~

Stroking my face with fragrant lips,
you are the song of the wind
blowing through fields of flowers.

~

In your open palm
I am a flower;
a pulse shivers my being,
sighs like fragrant dew from my eyes
as the morning sun
bends over to kiss me.

~

Your love was an axe striking at my roots,
time and again until, uprooted,
I fell into your sky.
Rooted between your sun and moon.

~

The Beloved –
Spinning a dream wheel in the mouth of heaven,
showering the world with interior stars.

~

In your embrace I turn astronomer,
the universe and all its stars revolving in my chest.

~

To love is to leap over the abyss of uncertainty
and into the ocean of absolute trust
where everything bursts from the deepest fount.
~

The breath that blows arid in your face,
choking your heart still,
is the same breath that,
at the stroke of love,
turns moist and fragrant.

~

Sting of realization,
a drop of honey burning on the tongue,
swelling like a wild flame to burst at dawn,
a garden of dewdrops, and flowers.

~

Home,
where poetry like bees
flutters and stings
precious fire into our skin,
flaming inward stars
as serpents awaken,
and waters spin.

~

Spinning us open
like the blue lotus flower
spreading petals in prayer,
welcoming the dawn.

Nothing To Hold On To Anymore

At last, the great mountainous wall
weighing down my heart
at the root of my soul cracked, shifted,
crumbled as rocks of all weights and sizes falling
into the ocean of becoming, and finally vanished;
in its place the great tree of spirit,
ever present, was unveiled,
its branches carrying the fruits of emptiness,
its leaves whispering eternal songs of silence,
and all around, above and below,
the flux of life incessantly moved and flowed,
now offering cups of sorrow and now cups of laughter
which I gratefully lifted to my lips and drank, sighing —
there’s nothing to hold on to anymore.

Potter and Winemaker

A potter am I and a winemaker,
And with every vessel I fashion
A sweet suspense does my heart impassion
Knowing how busy I’ll be, and eager,
Squashing full grapes, filling jars with soul-wine,
Stirring the dark, a glow incarnadine.

Quatrain # 3

Drinking a cold beer and thinking about
The ebbs and tides of life, her smile and shout,
How each low and each high deepen the soul
And break the heart outwards, raising one’s goal.

Stephan Micus – Darkness and Light