Free Verse # 366 (before you I am an unfree man)

Dawn…
the fragrant skin
of the woman I love
a thin veil covering
the garden of the world

~

Poetry is my form of worship,
with it, through it
I consummate my being
and lay it open
at the doorway of your sky,
a yearning flame quivering
in the heart of your sea.

~

I wanted to touch you, so I wrote you poetry.

~

The living in me had resigned
to be the flame of a candle
shivering and lost
in the contemplation of her eyes,
and what burning tears I wept
I scribed – holy poetry.

~

With death
I inherit the rain,
the kiss of lovers,
the breath of the sea,
flowers sigh at dawn
and I am in their yearning,
a thread in their lust.

~

At dawn
he trembled inside of her
as his eyes lay
fixed into hers,
his hips
the slow motion of waves
pushing,
her body
his harbor,
his eternal shore.

~

Before you
I am an unfree man,
a lightning born
of a boundless womb
and wanting, for your sake,
to incinerate the earth,
merge it with your sky.

~

Enmeshed
our bodies burned
in lustful fires,
melted
to a foaming point
then emerged,
a full moon parting
rough waters,
seeding the belly
of the dark sea.

~

Night descends
and I swell into her,
the shiver of my flame
cradled against her spine,
a full moon from her navel
whispering pure white.

~

Against my neck
in the quiver of her lips
the wet voice of dawn

~

At dawn
through the window
her scent wafting in,
the woman I love,
the woman I always wanted
to touch with my heart.

~

A dark moon glowing
her skin where he confides
the secrets of his heart

The Wound of Love

Wound of infinite profusion
Her lips on my skin,
But skin here is a thought and allusion
To a sphere within,
And an earth that so intimately knows
The meaning of spring.

Thus seared my being becomes an image,
A brilliant red rose
Aligning the world with the lineage
Of love’s holy throes,
A blessed wound pronouncing existence
A fruit on her lips.

Free Verse # 216 (the prayer of her heart)

I sent my poem like a hawk
to hunt after your heart,
but love was the eagle
perched at the high dome
snatching all birds
with his powerful talons
and with his piercing beak
breaking their hearts
into the eternal sky.

~

Deep in the waters of my dream
I found a seashell,
its surface glistening
with an ancient sheen.
Placing it against my ear
it sighed into me
the white pearl of your silence,
there, inside, forevermore to burn
like a grain of incense
in the censer of my heart,
the vessel of living poetry,
filling me with your perfume,
the stillness of your breath,
the prayer of your heart.

~

Her lips—a poem my lips ache to read, in braille.

~

My heart be the cloister
Housing your prayers,
The dawn-sky
Where your breath
Like a candle-flame flickers,
Then surrenders –
Extinguished in this love.

~

I desire to know you as a dewdrop, sinking into the flower’s heart, dies, merging with her perfumed essence. Boundaries crumbled; with the beloved, oned.

~

Sleeping in my heart
the flower at dawn
dreams of you
and suddenly awakes
to sigh from my lips
your name into the sky

~

I was a whisper in the mist
yearning for awakening,
then your breath caught me
and I lingered in your chest.
When you exhaled
I was life’s very breath.

~

In the night of my solitude
my poem like a flower
in her hair grows,
then, with dawn, she blooms,
her fragrant scent
a call awakening all of creation,
bidding them to come
to the altar of eternal love.

~

Like nightbirds
Our souls leave our bodies
To become one
In the womb of the sky,
A nebula birthing night’s stars,
Bathing the earth in wine.

~

Upon her lashes
The poetry of my being hangs,
Crystals to burn like stars
In the sea of her eyes,
To weep into them
My heart’s sacred tears.

~

Stars are poems her eyes inscribe in the sky.

~

You are my song of songs—like a bird perched in the dawn of your eyes I am taken by your silence, open to your sky.

~

The wind becomes music
Breezing through her hair,
The stars upon her lips
Melt into wine.

~

Burning into emptiness –
my heart
a grain of incense
in the censer
of your love.

~

Like the evening dew rains
From clear skies
So poetry falls
From the stillness of her eyes

Poetics of Desire

Her moans
In endless droplets
Pooled into his body,
Flooding like a river,
Waves under his skin frothing
– the poetics of desire.

~

His each kiss
seared a dancing star
into the water of her flesh.
Midnight, and lo!
like a sun from his altar she rose,
her rapture flooding
night’s dreamy womb,
breaking the white pearl
on the shore of desire.

Free Verse # 205 (the poet alone stands)

In the billows of your love
Each poem a paper boat
Subsumed into your core

~

My gaze through your ocean-eyes sails,
a vessel through far away horizons wandering
only to vanish and return no more.

~

Her hair
A garden of wild flames
Flicking through the air

~

Her body was written in a script only the stars and flowers could understand.

~

Even as the great mountain and the infinite sea, the poet alone stands and alone he weaves his dance.

~

You nurture yourself
on that which consumes you?
Be thirsty yet drink fire?
O love, your taste
inverted the world’s symmetry,
poisoned reason with sweet desire.

~

Bares she her skin for the moon
And lo! The verses inscribed therein
By the poet’s passionate lips
Suddenly glow, revealed,
A frothing sea of love.

~

From over the sea
The zephyr carries your voice,
Flowers enclosing
The salt of immemorial waves
Blossom inside of me.

~

As waves
Birthed from the womb
Of the endless sea
His poems
Coursed along her skin,
Intricately weaving
The tapestry of his breath,
His skin.

~

I touched you
and like a wildflower
my scent filled the earth and sky,
luring the sun to come down, like a bee,
and suckle at my sweet honey.

~

Pulsing in her eyes
The deep stillness of the woods –
Music in rivers
Calm, serene – blooms of a dawn
Hexing the soul of poesy.

~

O beloved,
Bury your lightning
Like a blade into me,
Carving my heart
With the echo
Of your passion,
Burning my soil
Into your volcanic dream.

~

The outcry of his passion
weaved into ribbons
of desert heat
swirling in endless eddies
the oceans of her bare shoulders and neck.

~

Embark!
Though the waves
Of this passion
Swell high and deep.
Embark!
For at the ocean’s heart awaits
The port of eternity.

~

Dionysus in her cheeks
And I, an empty cup,
Eager to fill with poetry.

His Touch (Painting Her)

Unknown photographer and model
Unknown photographer and model

Naked,
In the desert
Of his embrace
She beheld herself
In the mirror,
Her skin was tainted
With the intense hues
Of his passion,
Striped and burning deep,
The soft ferocity
Soaking in and through,
Completely,
Elevating her
Into a mystic painting
Ever metamorphosing
Into the wildest landscapes
Under the ineffable guidance
Of his touch.

On Desire

Unknown Photographer
Unknown Photographer

Red with desire
the moon rises,
each burning light-thread
rippling through my waters
waves of ecstasy,
awakening within
a dawn of sweet silence,
an intoxication blooming
in a heaven of clarity.

Junnaiyd says there is a sobriety that contains all drunkenness, but there is no drunkenness that contains all sobriety. Coleman Barks, Rumi, The Book of Love