I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A shelter out of rain,
With ascending and descending friends.
I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.
I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters,
A current winding with no rest.
I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.
I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.
I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
I want to crawl in your mind.
Find the real rythm behind the melody of your heartbeat.
Show you Gods given freedom out of verbal prison walls.
To make you fall in your spiritual calling.
Vision
Preaching your emotions by reaching the back of your tongue
You hide your insecurities among your heavenly eyes.
The heaviness of your tongue is beauty to me.
Let me set you free.
Freedom
Travel me to your secrets.
Let me loose between your memories.
I will not abuse your confidence but
regularly choose to unite us in consequences.
Let me visit your fears.
Explore
Let me dissolve your assumptions
and reason your doubts.
Evolve out of the abundance of my soul.
I will slowly, surely travel myself deeper, deeply
to discover the source of your sincere existence.
Promise
Patience
Love
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 7:04 PM UTC
two beats. one heart
i want to become one with you.
love love love.
one? what is one?
the lowest cardinal number.
half of two.
you? one...
You're? the one.
two beats. one heart
us? one.
one? you. myself. ; peculiar beings ; one? we are one.
always and forever, I have hoped to find the one.
always and forever, I have hoped to find she. who amounts to one .
you? her? one? my love.
forever and always I hope to have you as one.
forever and always I hope to become one with you.
catharsis.
the word said like a mantra.
the word said like the last prayer.
the word amounting to; you. one. Nirvana. serendipity.
four words; four hearts; one.
through you many things have been found, love, lust, love, serendipity, nirvana, catharsis, love , art, love.
together? catharsis ; can become.
two beats. one heart.
two hearts. one beat.
in sync. love.
i love you
three words. mantra.
you you you. i love you.
catharsis; you and i. forever and always. Nirvana.
Words; life. You; life support. Us; love, hope.
well hoped.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 6:56 PM UTC
Don't know how did we become friends
Don't know either when did it start
Though I know everything has an end
But I know I want to be with you since from the start
Ask me how much I love you my friend
And my answer is if you can count the stars
I know there is no forever
But you will always be in my heart
Yes , we may can't be friends forever
But only death can do us part
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC
Gunga peas calypso
Madly
in my cooking ***
gradually I pour canned coconut milk
into the swirling flavors
of cilantro, garlic and onions
Staring into the rich brown
stew
I can see my Mother grating
coconut meat and hand squeezing
the milk like teats from a cow
(Too much work for me)
creating a traditional coconut rice and peas
dish
She was raised on a farm in St. Elizabeth,
Jamaica
early hours, rugged, hard labor were natural
for the family which included nine siblings
Pauline was a kind big hearted Soul
with ample soft *****
perfect for children
to lay their heads upon
and skin that always seemed
to smell of curry
Burnt sienna Indian complexion
wavy black river hair
and colorful patois accent
painted a portrait
cavorting over the dandy, rolling
goat hooved hills of
Jamaican village peasantry
The Moravian church of England formed
beliefs woven inextricably through
the fabric of her simplistic
innocent existence
our Mom instilled a love of
God in us that was pure and hearty
"Sonya stop your daydreaming"
my Mother's clarion voice interrupts
my avid reverie
"Bumba!" I cry aloud
"I haven't had bammy in eons"
Quickly my fingers Google
Another tasty native recipe
chock full of memories
and cassava root
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
His ******* angel wings can no longer lift him high enough. His silhouette
stands against the Morning Glory sky. He has not worn cologne
until this day. Now, the perfume of kerosene coats him. His
matchstick countdown has just hit zero,
ignition.
In flames, he launches off the edge of that crisp concrete line. He falls
ten stories, what was once a man, now an effigy not of stone
or wood, but flame which, wind-washed,
splays out as Ringed Plover wings,
ash feathers blown back.
With a crash of bone and pavement, his Chinese Lantern skin the color
of burnt-sienna, the blaze snuffs out. Through yellow plastic paper,
the creamy skinned women rush to his side. Mother,
Sister, Wife, cradle him, the fingers catch skin
which sloughs off in
flakes of
carbon.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
~
she shows her loss
in conflagration,
her death in
varied coloration;
in life support
of beautied kind,
she displays for
all mankind
her burst of
brilliant orange,
of rusty red,
and deep magenta,
of richest shades
in burnt sienna.
all are losses
soon to be,
loosed from limb,
and fallen...
from her tree,
to the earth
for all to see;
master of
this burning fire,
fulfills the eye
to heart’s desire,
she makes sweet love
with dying breath,
she breathes her last
with heaving breast,
and summons all
to watch her death,
to bid adieu
in living color,
and thus fulfills
her yearly drama;
showing loss is
more than death...
tis cold winter’s
icy breath
that breathes
anew each spring,
and thus the
cycle filled
she the chosen,
she the one,
to bring new life,
awakened sun;
renewed to us,
and thus,
the rays of hope
again, begun!
~
*post script.
my inspiration for this creation is simple... the posting of a dear HP friend, K. Mae, who wrote these simple and profound words here...
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1435498/see-through-loss/
thank you K, for helping to open these eyes to the riches that lie before us... even in loss!*
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
In the black coffee of night the moon pours cream
through the open window above our bed and lightens
the umber shadow stretching across the pale linen wall.
I want to paint you, your skin canvas smooth. Your breath
teases my touch as the hands and lips of new lovers do.
I dip my brushes into the liquid cups of your palms, load them
with color--madder rose,
vermillion,
scarlet,
carmine deep, cerulean,
turquoise,
lemon yellow,
burnt sienna,
ebony, titanium white--
to mix and match memories. I trace the whorls of your ears.
One brush fine enough to limn each lash, another of sturdy
bristle to scumble in the nooks of belly and ribs. I use flats
and ovals to define the arcs of your curves and wipe them clean
with rags torn from sheets where we strayed. Carefully, I frame you
in my arms and dry you with whispers.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
Every steady stroke of lead staining the spotless paper,
Takes shape into a vivid sketch of her blueprinted future.
It was her hand that steered the pencil up to the final detail,
But it was the tenacity in her being that polished off the masterpiece.
The draft was no evidence of a foreseen tomorrow;
Rather, a subtle illustration of what can bring that vision forward.
It was but a portrait of herself;
Her hair ablaze in burnt sienna with tinges of orange,
Every strand of it splashed with colors of burning hope.
Her eyes, as brown as they are,
Traced with fine ebony lines of boldness,
In them is where wild reveries come to life.
She is the outline, she is the plan.
She is enough to be an artwork of her own.
She is the pattern, she is the design.
She is the finishing touch to her own creation.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC