Kiss by kiss
tracing her freckles,
alighting stars
in the firmament of her skin,
the heavenly silk
where a poet himself falls,
inscribed,
forever in her womb to burn,
a nebula giving birth to life.
Month: November 2014
Wandering Thought # 25
The more we grow the more we realize how inadequate our education in the face of life—it prepares us for no more than being practical, which means, cogs in the economic machine, useful to it as appendixes, but as for relationships, hurt, death, suffering, joy, creativity, birth, and all the rest, it has so very little to say, so very little to offer—it does not care for us as human beings, individuals. In small and great matters we have to educate ourselves, find strength, fortitude, and will in ourselves. On the rich and wealthy human history of literature, painting, poetry, philosophy our education draws so very little, it draws only on what is necessary for us to become socially and economically functional. But we others, we human beings, we free spirits, we breathe differently, we will differently, and our education always begins late in our life.
Haiku # 124
Your face,
is the jasmine
this pure?
Haiku # 123
Twilight ruin,
over my face the shadows
of bats and crows.
Haiku # 122
I see you
jasmine flower
smiling silently
~
Morning after rain,
the jasmine flower
smiling silently.
Haiku # 121
Evening chill,
the rattling windows
of an abandoned house.
Free Verse # 252 (my heart a blue flower)
Her hair
a nocturnal river
where stars like fish
dart in streams of light,
poetry traced
amid the banks of night.
~
Heavy with dawn’s nectar –
my heart a blue flower
eager to spill
into her open palms,
wash her body
with the purity of my silence.
~
I write, and each word is a breath seeping from her inner sky.
~
Studying love’s flame
an anchorite
to annihilation burned,
now a river carrying the breath
that enlivens the world,
floods the sky with light.
~
A touch of silence,
upon her lips
the burning edge of dawn.
~
Amid her breasts poised
the aroma of the night –
a mystic flower breathing
the essence of dawn.
Senryu # 77
Lacing my skin
her voice,
first scent of dawn.
Wandering Thought # 24
Every good dietitian knows that the task of nourishment is not merely to sustain and conserve the body, but, rather, to make it grow healthier and stronger, suppler and, at the same time, harder, more capable of enduring, of conquering—and so it is with philosophers, those dietitians of knowledge, they whose task is to put flame and hammer to the spirit, to understand it as a stomach and as such nourish it, deepening the soul through joy and injury and giving it back to the world a thousand times richer.
Free Verse # 251 (a fading flower)
“Life is elsewhere?”
Sighed the cup of tea
Warm in my hands.
~
Alone in the dark,
The silence a heavy foot
Weighing down my heart.
~
To touch her
in thought or sight
one must be pure
as a ray of light
~
The poem
in a transient world,
dawn in a fading flower.
~
Lacing his scent
to her inner thigh,
the curve of her breast,
the lining of her smile.
~
I listened to the fog
and her voice was a river
churning through my soul
Senryu # 76
Against my cheek
her touch,
the beginnings of spring.
Free Verse # 250 (blessed with a curse)
Her crimson lips,
Flower of rain,
Rose of silence.
Her dark eyes,
Flame of passion,
Sea of calmness.
~
Poetry –
against the flower’s cheek
the echo of a dewdrop.
~
Fevered whispers,
under her skin his breath
a forest in bloom.
~
Chill of silence,
clouds moving,
the rhythm of life.
~
His poem,
her breath poured
into a vessel of light.
~
Their breaths merged
and the flame shivered silent
as their bodies drowned
in the body of the night,
therein to die,
therein to be birthed, as one,
on the altar of divine light.
~
Blessed with a curse,
this longing within which hurls me
ever deeper into you,
burning achingly
through the sea of your absence.
Haiku # 120
Rain rain,
in my heart a flower
laughing silently.
Haiku # 119
Cool autumn eve,
in this cup of tea
the memory of her lips.
Haiku # 118
Her sweet scent
a bitter tea,
the jasmine flower.
Letter November 13, 2014
Amid the ash and ruins
Who do you search for, O heart?
An intractable silence
Envelops you for all time.
Only your lover’s whisper
Can caress your weeping light,
But this voice is a shadow
At one with the murky clouds.
Free Verse # 249 (enwombed by his touch)
Haunted
by the silence of your absence
as though I were an autumn leaf
blown away from home
~
Descending darkness,
A house of fog and silence
Ringing hollow sounds.
~
I shiver
as though I were a star
eager to be reborn
in the folds of her skin
~
Enwombed by his touch,
the fragrance of his silence,
the breath his lungs heaves
to plant her in his heart,
forever in the abyss
of his fervent light.
He Shall Return
Wielding the spring
along his smiling lips
he shall return,
in your eyes
a pilgrimage of silence,
along your tainted lips
an eternal sunshine.
He shall return to engulf you,
a solitude tearing your bones
from the flesh of the earth,
grinding them into a scatter
of stars across the sky,
wombs burning with endless possibility,
nebulae where the formless
at each moment takes form,
manifesting all of life,
existence entire.
Senryu # 75
Poetry’s nectar,
Upon her lips a wine flows
Darker than the night.
Haiku # 117
Mist and shadows,
over the dark waves
the silent moon.
~
Northern winds,
in my wooden bowl
an autumn leaf.
~
This morning
the seeping vapour
of past night’s dream
Rooted in Love 