Tag: poem
‘Blossom Away’ (2014)
Blossom away to wherever, that day I find burning leaves that never turn to ashes They sparkle like the ocean drawn by moon lit by sun I like them to be colder than bluest point alive Flowing away like the wind, liquefied I want to hold on to their edges, and draggedto, fro, away and…
Lying flat
As pain spreads from head to eyes to throat to through the neck and all within it to the lower back and lower muscles and lower and lower and lower still a prophet finds herself in the middle of the kitchen one hand on the cold floor, much colder than the dripping sweat dehydrating her…
I long to dwell in an ocean of fancies
I long to dwell in the ocean of fanciesanother body of water after a Countless.How can I help but dream of fishing every nightto catch such anything that puts me in bliss? I’d like to lay in a blanket of daisies—for the soil itself to be strands of my tresses.Does it matter if my eyes…
11:07
Memories of a faraway world would visit me at random:in the middle of the night, as I prepare to sleep tending my broken wrist with oriental herbs so that the next moment’s slumber would be painless, or simply less painful that how it would have been dreams from some yesterday would come about in my…
Rivera
The longing to be like the river: having neither mind nor beating heart that may stop every rushing flow toward One one of the great oceans—an upside down sky, such is the view of the roaring river. If a river can read and move deep within the carvings of the earth If a river can…
Today is Wednesday
This new year of the moon brings forth a kind of ends-and-beginnings that go in medias res: in the middle of things where changes are all slow and sudden and still.
Visitations
It seems to come only in short whispers but leaves a tinge of hues so strong that though no one can see, It is known to so many others of the alternate Real there are several rooms of one immeasurable house the imaginary palace has taken over Its master calling consciousness back to wherever It…
Autumn whisper
Maybe we had once driven through a windy town to a rundown dinerWhere a song about sadness of a past time lingeredin happy notes over fruity tones from carelessly made coffeeI had hoped in this life you’d have more of those for me to see It is not that we ought to, but only that…
Projection
I am closing my eyes as the gentle up-and-down of this music carry me through the faint tangibility of my soul I’ve turned back to the music, the mysticism of art as my tears have now started to fall and I risk drowning in my nature I am silent, stuck and shaking, nervous as is…