Free Verse # 392 (the heart of the rising sun)

Full moon tonight…
in the blowing breeze
my words scatter,
fragrant petals
falling to her feet.

~

Silently we slipped away,
two foxes wearing for skin
the gold of poetry,
and in the blue of dawn
love was a field opening
to the heart of the rising sun.

~

Dawn…
my breath and yours
merging
over the silent fields,
a quiet prayer
from amid our joined ribs
rising
to greet the rising sun.

~

My poetry draws you
in lines of everlasting beauty
in the deeps of my mind;
one day I will vanish
and you will shine on.

~

Starbreath at dawn…
I go to you clad in the wings
of a thousand kisses,
all vying like poems
to drink from your mouth.

~

Starbreath at dawn…
on your pillow my poem
holding vigil

Lovers’ Meditation; A Prayer

We sit facing each other,
wordless, our eyes
resting in contemplation,
attentive, listening
with all the primitiveness
of our blood,
listening to our breath
in its ebb and flow
weaving tighter
the life inhabiting us,
sussing the warmth
out of each other
as deeper and deeper
we inhabit each other’s bodies,
the internality of each
flowering in a moment
of openness,
flowering behind our eyes
and spilling into our hearts
a prayer-like knowing
as slowly, slowly,
the light accumulating
in the ponds of our faces
at last shines and spills,
our faces, merging,
from amid the silent hills rise
white as the moon.

Free Verse # 379 (the face I loved before I was born)

Silent moon
passing over the hills
and I am here
in the poem’s abyss
writing your breath
a quilt of flowers
covering the silent earth.

~

So I think of you
in the moonlight at dawn
and I am a poem
full of remembrance
of the face I loved
before I was born.

~

Liminal light at dawn
and I swear
with the fingertips of poetry
I can touch your face
made of holy white.

~

For eons I could wait for you,
the moon will be the moon,
and your breath will be the womb
in which I live and write.

~

When I can’t sleep
I hold your hand in my hand
and fervently write
with your breath for a pen.

~

Her buoying breath,
the incense of honey
burning on the altar
of moonlight at dawn.

~

Alone in my poetry,
a moon weaving his verse
on the other side of silence
waiting for you.

~

Night is suddenly
filled with shadows
all falling from her hair.

~

The moon moves closer,
her breasts overfull
with the lure
of immemorial centuries,
the starlight in my poem quivers
reducing my soul
to a shining white.

~

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Clad in fog we vanished
into the mystic mountain of union,
inseparable we rose again
breathing open
wide as the sky.

~

I live in anticipation
of your next breath
that will come
like an autumn leaf
to rest against my cheek,
that will come
like a summer breeze
to wrap my neck.

~

I am a worshiper
in the house of mercy,
with the mesh of your pen
drain my blood
then write me in the sky,
with the wick of your candle
drain my tears
then light the dark night.

Haiku # 431

No words to say
only heartbeats hushed
in the ear of the moon

~

Quieter each year
only speaking
with the light of the moon

~

Misfit heart…
a patchwork of poetry
inked in silence

~

batroun-november-06-2016
Batroun, November 06, 2016

Ending the day
her breath, a shawl
wrapped around my neck

~

batroun-november-06-2016_1
Batroun, November 06, 2016

In my teacup
steeping
the white leaves of the moon

Tanka # 88 – Haiku # 430

Shaking bones…
poems in the moonlight
catching fire

~

Dust and shadows…
a butterfly fading
in the waves of the moon

~

In the heart of the night
who comes to find me?
With a deathly kiss
the light of the moon.

~

Ladder of silk strings
in the deathly hollow…
light of the moon

~

Biting the apple
of my heart…
light of the winter moon

~

Fervent on her breast
I write my blood…
the breast of the moon

~

Stab my heart
to a beating throb
samurai moon

~

In my hot cup of tea
steeping
the leaves of the moon

~

Who comes? Who goes?
gazing at the world
with the eye of the moon

~

A passing world
busy with nothing…
thin curve of the moon

~

Moon of silence
moon of shadows
and a poppy heart
drinking
the sad smile of your light

~

Impotent men
always parading
their fucking escapades

~

Pinned by the penis
with which they fuck…
impotent at heart

Free Verse # 376 (we are poetry)

Le poème en elle
achève son corps ;
la poésie
dans ses yeux
plante ses feux,
fontaine qui arrose
terre et cieux.

~

Her breasts…
a spring of flowers
blooming in my mouth

~

With silver moonlight
I braid her hair,
kiss her freckles
to burning stars;
with the jasmine’s breath
I balm her neck,
rouse the dawn
in her eyes;
with autumn’s sun
I water her silence,
ripen the last figs
on her lips;
with dawn’s light
I rub her eyelids
clear blue as the water
of infinite skies.

~

On the evening wind
your voice
calls out to me,
breath of tea,
breath of jasmine,
a simple intimacy
open like the moon.

~

On the bank we sit
whispering secrets
to each other
and watching
the river flow,
soon, soon,
the river becomes we
and our froth
the world’s poetry,
soon, soon,
into each other
we merge and melt
and when someone asks
Who am I?
Who are you?
We look in each other’s eyes
and smile
as our silence whispers,
We, we are simple,
We are the moon’s white heartbeat,
We are poetry.

~

Morning…
I rinse my face
with the water
of your fragrance;
I fill my heart
with the cup
of your silence.

~

Each month
when the moon disappears
for a day or two
know it is sailing
the sea of her hair
down to its dark roots,
know that as she sighs
it will rise again,
rebirthed from her womb.

Haiku # 364

Overnight
they changed color
her eyes now in love

~

قمر ينادي
وزهرة ياسمين
في الحقل تنصت

~

Panayiotis Tetsis, The Moon
Panayiotis Tetsis, The Moon

The craw’s black caw
a dagger stabbing
the heart of the moon

~

Feeding bees in winter
pine needles scented
with her skin

~

Dressed
in chill moonlight
the poem of her skin

~

Charlotte Clara
Charlotte Clara

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