Rise again from the mountain of darkness,
The sun and moon in your hands a harness
Steering all thoughts into the azure height,
Pristine and clear, a dithyramb of might.
Month: January 2014
Bound
In endless fingers
my poetry circles your breath,
wrapping you,
within my sun planting you,
a solar embrace forging you,
a rose within my garden grown,
her roots forever suckling
at the sap of my heart,
her petals imbibing
the light of my eyes,
the honeyed nectar
her heart ferments
reaped into my cup,
a wine our merged lips savour
in the heart of the night.
Your Poetry
Your passion
Kisses all the trees
Into a burning flame;
At night, they come,
Each of their branches
A burning pen
Diving into me,
Writing me into existence
As your poetry.
I Miss You
Slowly, agonizingly
The clock moves,
And I miss you,
Each tick like lightning
Falling into my heart,
The roll of its thunder
Licking my skin inside out,
Weeping from my restless fingers
Letters of crimson
Whose only ache
Is your fingers to twine,
Searing my soul
With the image of your face
Now burning behind the horizon
Like the twilight sun.
Senryu # 23
her dark hair,
a river of dawn’s water
coursing my skin.
Senryu # 22
her poem,
a perfumed dawn
I read with my skin.
The Language of the Sea
Below audible
Your whisper strokes my cheeks,
Like the shawl of dusk
It embraces my heart;
I shiver,
And the tear which falls
From my liquid eyes
You drink with your mouth,
Soak into your burning lips,
And then, in one endless kiss,
Breathe it back into me,
The language of the sea
Inside of us bursting,
One, for all eternity.
Letter, January 17, 2014
Breath is sacred. It is the breath which animates life. And the breath itself, fading into silence, reveals the whole sky, the void eternally birthing the world into existence.
You are much more than a beloved. You are the world and its every sway, tangible and unseen. You are the divine embodied; the breath which beats life into me.
Letter, January 15, 2014
Your voice consists of many forests, some burning, some dark, and all stratified layer upon layer such as one can get lost among them without exhausting their endless possibilities. There is a depth to your voice that one can travel through as if he were a ship sailing through the ocean. And, as in the ocean, there is no end to your voice.
Torn
A heart eager to suckle
at the tip of her fiercely burning blade
as if it were the roots of life itself—
thus my heart beats wilder and wilder
feeling the exquisite burn sink deeper
through the ribs of my chest,
and my eyes brimming with desire
burst with pure tears
that spill like incense
into the furnace this lust.
The quivering center of my being
now shudders infinite
like an abyss of light,
a heart inside out torn open
into a flow of poetry and stars
eager to be graced
with the touch of her skin,
the caress of her breath.
Poetry like a sigh dies upon my lips
and becomes the silent breath
fluttering through city and forest
eager to rest in the dawn of her eyes.
To The Muse
Foam
Foam,
all the poetry
your waves
etch into my skin,
Foam,
singing for a dawn
and then vanishing,
their silent breath
unfurling under my skin.
Unity
From between our soldered bodies
Love erupts like a volcano
Of infinite heat and intensity,
Its rolling lava writhing under our skin,
Poetry’s seething tongues marking us forever,
Our flesh becoming a garden evergreen,
Ever bearing the sublime fruits of love.
Breath
In the vapour of your breath
rising in the cold sky of dusk
I etched my poems,
watched them vanish
then, in the fur of heaven,
blossom into stars.
The Implacable Flow
Slowly,
my skin soaks you in
as if you were the light of the moon,
and early before the dawn
when night’s voice rings deepest and stillest
I overflow silently
as if I were the well of eternity itself,
my skin weeping poetry and stars
on the endless sanctity of your shore.
Parting the Mist
Struck by dawn’s rays
The mist of the night parted
And there she were,
A Goddess weaving the world
In the open palms of her hands.
Unknowing
I weaved your fragrance
into a mythic cloud
and I entered it unknowing,
surrendered in wit and sharpness
and laid bare on your altar
of ineffable flowing.
Senryu # 21
dawn breaks;
from amid my ribs
the sun rising.
Senryu # 20
Waxing full, the moon.
Her skin, a garden of flowers
White and pure.
Letter, January 05, 2014
The more I love you the greater my solitude grows. For nothing in the world attaches or holds me anymore but you. And then, a step further, not even your love. Even your love lets me go, releases me into the thick night of wonder where solitude itself, doused like the light of a distant star, becomes the whole sky, all the stars and the space in between.
Haiku # 66
morning flight,
a bird into the sun
darting
Rooted in Love 