I’m not the one who sails with grace
Tempestuous seas
broad as the moon
I’m not the one who stood in her firm legs
Sorting waves of ambition with equilibrium
I’m not the one who resisted equable
before unearthly weather
I’m not the one who faced bravely
A simple stormy header
I’m not the one who surfs
oceans of emotions
I’m the one who swims from dot to dot
I’m the one who knows who I am not.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
a bird sings
flying above my head
all my respects
yes
action and consequence
but what brought me here
is also blessed help
thank you i love you
thank you i love you
thank you i love you
I hear some happiness
far above my head
a bird sings
inside
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
she broke a glass
in the kitchen
at the moment of rupture
an earthquake somewhere else
in her stomach
he’s not writing any longer
a crush
she didn’t know that he had her
he didn't know she didn't know
nor intuitively
nor pragmatically
a spillage of warm expectations
and wedding plans
in sharp pieces
lying in the floor
a broken glass
an open door.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 9:11 PM UTC
we can all see galaxies
in a cup of black coffee
may we all be ready for the shock
of immensity
cold and new,
breathtaking,
familiar.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 6:52 PM UTC
change my name
letter by letter
any musical morning
for a name that is light and free
change my name for this is spoiled
change my name for this has a vice
change my name for this is desiring
change my name for one that is composed
with the letters of kindness
change my name, and let the new one humble by the bliss of being useful.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
This things are made for idling
transparent in their quotidian splendor:
A Buddha statue at the receptionist desk
golden skin, red robes
welcoming all yogis with its gaze
eyelids closed
The candle, a guardian of an aim
an intention that moves within a flame
over the palms of the wooden hands
Incense smoke dance softly around the entrance
like a dream seen from wakefulness
immersive enhancer of the humor
filling the place with soft calmness
Nag champa smell
and serious air
The bamboo doors
from Monday to Sunday
open the way to Indian sounds
and the voices of blooming teachers
guide the way
until shavasana
when practitioners become gently moving statues
and glowing air goes
breathing in and breathing out
daily efforts and daily hopes.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC