I know they look like sunrises and sunsets, but I was painting you.
When I painted all the rivers that lead to the oceans, and the glorious starry nights, and the flowers; the sublime orchids and the tender roses.
In the end
and from the beginning,
I was painting you.

The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry

My grandpa
             Words he gave
                            To me once upon a full moon
“Son” he said
            “When you go into this life”
“Remember, that love is a language “
             “So find, my son, find someone”
                     “Who speaks your language “
      “So you don’t have to translate your soul”
                                   Hmmm.

the
first bike I bought ever
with my savings cost quite
a lot in relation to my income

from the shop near peters hill
where I thought the pram and

other things

when a child I had a tricycle which
broke bumping down a kerb

i remember disbelief
and devastating feelings

the next one was blue and I fell off

so I thought a blue one again
with a seat on the back & a basket
on the front

she got heavy later
too big so we took
the bus

and I used the bike for work
or walked there

i still have that bike
stored

four bikes in total ever
two second hand
two brand new

james

they say bikes are hard to get here at present
while mine is on a waiting list at the bike repair
shop in town

it will be my first visit for
months james

When the silence penetrates the valleys,
and the darkness climbs the mountain,

When the flowering jasmine sleeps in the dry river bed, you make me feel beautiful!

There is a feeling of austerity
in the beauty you make me feel,
The beauty beyond aches,
The beauty beyond pleasure,
The beauty beyond time,
The beauty of thousand yesterdays,
The beauty of despair,
The beauty of never ending sorrow,
The beauty of life flame,

This choleric beauty you make me feel
wipes away the defences of time,

It is you making me feel beautiful!

I want
to be the one your pen
and paper talk about