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She’s a wild beauty
A wild women.
A bookworm.
She sits and signs in her solitude...
From mourning the attired sorrows that fills up her mind,
To the exhausted eyes that watch the sunrise, the sunset the night falling...
At peace
By the silver waters
The early encounter by the glacial bay.
The green atmospheric halos
That capture winters frost.
A wild beauty
No she doesn’t hide
She stands out
Greeting the pain
Bidding adieu to the tomorrow
Reflecting on the yesterday
Wishing it would’ve stayed.
Release me into the bluest of skies
and rejoice as my soul comes alive
Do not grieve our separation
We are all merely a dusting of creation
She comes to me in whispers
her feet treading water above silvered shards
as her cerulean stare pierces the dark.
I breath in the atmosphere
as her chill sets my lungs to burn.
Both fear and adoration fill my mind as beauty in it's bleakest form, beckons.
 May 2018 Forgotten Pages
 May 2018 Forgotten Pages
Yesterday night,
as I was crossing the
bridge of the past,
your name was
barely floating underneath,
I looked at it as it was
half submerged,
half breathing,
and my hand didn't reach out for it,
instead, it reached out for my heart,
listened to its beats,
they said walk to the end of the bridge,
and I did,
my hand reached for my hair and cut
two strands to make a ribbon to tie the past,
you loved my hair after all,
didn't you?
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the **** heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it

called a lecture
   at the coffee shop
no one showed
   but me and my cup
proclaimed to the walls
   my fantasies of words
no one denied
   my ignorance
but i heard an echo
   speaking softly
the coffee machine
   gurgling softly
and i fell in love
 May 2018 Forgotten Pages
my heart bleeds poetry
it spills from every corner.

a heart that beats -
stubborn, against all remedies.

reason balms my ache;
sweet rationality says
‘just not meant to be’.

but it beats on and spills still
moon after moon,
it lives only to ache.

my heart bleeds poetry
only for you and I ask only
that it be still.

that is my tragedy.
"To Never Be Quiet Again"

To never be quiet again i pray
To sing of bones and teeth
And soaring birds
Of change eternal transmuting
The aggregate of we
To newer dreams unthought
Till seen in the moment arisen
Of monkeys contemplating in trees
Of vibrating mind stuff
Incarnate oscillations
Neither existence nor non existence
But the fullness of the inexpressible
The beauty of no shape
No form
No archetype but the make believe
The source of breath
The source of sight
The source of consciousness
Infinite variety bewildering to ignorance
To birth and death continuous
Till birth and death transcended
The exhilarating mystery of motive power
Of Himalayan hillsides
Prayer flags in the wind
Hammer and chisel stone work
And the virtuous wishes of all
Sentient beings
oldie but goodie
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