Moon mantled in clouds
From it falls tears of Heaven
Lotus kissed with dew

Barefooted, she walks
A lithesome body in white
Rose cheeked, tear-brimmed eyes

Her skirts made of mist
as she twirls and piroettes
and reaches for you

Her sleeves are water
They wave high, above her head
Drops become crystals

As she shines so bright
Crowned with cassia-blossoms
on her silk black hair

But why does she cry?
She hears the music of life
and yearns for the flame

The flick of her wrist
The lake murmurs its sad song
And she's reminded

As the petals rain
In hemp or rich brocade
We are like vapors

I believe at one point,
we are all flies in a web.
Stuck and bound by one
great spider.

Who's calm and cool
when it comes to
control because they
can bind us down
and pull strings over our
heads.

It's the only way for them
to feel powerful, and that
feeds into their predatory
nature.

The webs they spin coat
and change who we are
as well as becoming what
they need.

A meal.
     Helpless.
            Trapped.

And we become comfortable
in that disrespect for us.
Yes.
At one point in our lives,
we are flies in a web.

Most people stay flies from
birth to the hearse.
Some people are natural
born spiders; deceptive.
controlling.

To all those flies,
people like me,
who flew and escaped
from countless spiders,
it's long overdue
that we become
one.

✍

a spokesperson of history and
their own language

an adventurer who dare to brave the
unknown jungles and uncharted temples

a student who starts from nothing
and grows by learning more

a listener who can hear and hone
the sound of their own prose

a lover who always leaves their
mark on ****** papers

a waterbearer who pours their soul to make
readers see and feel the beauty of the ripple

one soul that can and will write
their way into multiple lives

a warrior who fights to conquer
their greatest enemy, self-doubt

a drinker who wishes to
forget reality

a crafter who hears, sees, sniffs, feels
and thinks through their fingers

a sadist who loves to whip their
readers with twists, turns, pain and agony

a ******* who revels in the beautiful
agony of words, drafts and revisions

The writer's language is all that and more
It can bring as much agony as well as galore
And a special few truly understand that
the writer's language is anything but bland

The writer's language

The Writer's Language

It truly is second to none

✍

What am I?
A mere butterfly in the summer fly of your
beauty?

Why am I
here,
coloured by the summer sky of your
grace?
Here I am to face
the nurture and the chase
of a diamond dragon's pace.
The searcher and my crystal
percher.

Where am I?
I'm gliding by the land to overhead.
By the starry riverbed, and time goes ahead,
as I taste the words
I never said...
I see flower heads of lover's lies
that suffer by the frontal eye
of azure skies, who's flustered by
the boats ahead.

Who rode ahead the ocean bed
of love and lust.

My flesh is a myriad of coloured dyes.
And when I wonder
why,
I am discovered by...
What?
Truth.
And pain.


I must be going insane...

The sun strokes my cheeks
The winds blows bird songs to me
Day of birth has come

Let me stay in a peaceful dwam
on my feather bed.
Soothed by the song of a thousand tears.
Half buried in embodied pillows
scented by pink lavenders, by
the warm flames licking and
dancing in the fireplace,
With a silver notebook
and a golden pen resting
by my side, my soft
wavy ringlets fall
around like
petals.

~
Why is it that I find literature
to be more humane than
humans sometimes?
~

Pondering in Spring
Warming up in tranquil minds
Leaves falling gracious

My hearts runs gently
The light gives inner mind rest
Gardens spread onward

Slumber intertwined
Stress, my fallen foe falls quick
Rain becomes voiceless

The moon gives us light but no heat.
The moon hears our secrets but doesn't tell.
The moon gives us comfort but at a distance.
The moon loves us all but it's only dark.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
I stand in front of a baroque mirror; grand,
gold, gilded with leaves, grapes, dolphins
angels, swans and shells. So wonderful, and
proud on my chamber wall. And in it, I see
myself  in a fitted dress, velvet, and of the
deepest plum kissed by gold-jacquard; a
single, heart-shaped Tanzanite suspended
from the girdle belt;  the skirts trailing
behind me.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
I marvel how the light hits the embroidered
florals with pearls and diamonds; they sweetly
glint and wink, sending shards of the rainbow
around my room. Around my slim throat,
a pendant, a coin with lace doily pattern,
and amethyst at the core the size of
a robin's egg.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
Across my forehead, a golden diadem
decorated with filigree, beaded with pearls,
delicate gem tendrils and patterned with
lotuses and lilies, the symbol of my proud
Aurelinaea. As I tuck a black curly ringlet
behind my ear, my earrings twinkles,
tear-cut, Tanzanite, with gold filigree.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
"My Lady has had a long day indeed,"
my senior handmaid Ainhana smiles
and waves her hands, her menagerie of
handmaids begin to help me undress.
Removing the jewellery, removing my
diadem, unlacing my dress and
removing my corsets and heels.
"You must be relieved that it is over."

✿⊰✲⊱✿
"Yes I am," I sigh as a handmaid presents
my iris-purple kimono robe which I slip
into. Another maid presents a large bowl of
rosewater while the other held a silver tray,
upon it, a milk-white towel spun from rose-silk.
I proceed to wash the make-up from my face.
The delicate aroma fills my nose, as my skin
feels cleaner, feels purer. As the waters drip,
I use the towel to wipe my face and pat
the rosy drops down.

Found a second home
Time now frozen in a click
Anxieties die

Two becoming one by golden rings,
The man in a suit, and the wife demure
in white.
During the art of making love,
the ardour of man is firewater,
and sweet liquor.
The woman's wistful gaze is aflame
with a wish of vestal silk.
The firewater may chill, and the sweetness
of liquor fade, but the wistful woman's wish
is as lasting as time.

Lust is one craving for your flesh and
conquest. Love is one melding
with your mind and body.
Then, and only then,
are you truly
naked.

My love,
I do not know if you will see this letter, lest
you do not wish for my words to taint your holy eyes.
But I must bear to you my inner most heart.
I humbly beseech to Your Majesty that I be
not condemned without answer or reason.
You said that you will not glide through
the seasons without your sacred flowering
plum in hand, heart and mind, and yet,
I have now been left at the foot of
a stark tree in the heart of Winter,
confined in your palace without your
summer heart which it too much for me to bear.

I crave to have one word...
If not, then one last glance of you.
I had been cursed to not be able to carry
nor birth your seed, but the love we shared
is more than enough to give my life meaning.
I care not of promotions, of being your Worthy
Consort, of being your Phoenix.
I care only of being a loyal wife to you.
My heart is so hollow that every kiss,
loving word, happy moments have
come back to form a single goodbye...
The grief has ripped you from me,
leaving me with a guilt and fear heavier
than any mountain.
Please, do not leave your flowering plum,
to wither for with this snowstorm,
I will not be able to raise again.
Not without you...
My pain has been wrapped for you,
and is presented in the form of a letter,
and I am aware that I am a mere spider
walking on a silk thread.
I just want to hear from to you, one
last times...
My arm rests by the blade made
sharp by stroking a stone.

                        Your fading plum,
                                       Meihua

Under the light of the moon,
my mind races as I chase its tail
The sweet taste of happy thoughts
soured by the bitter screeches of life

Everything seems to scuttle through the cracks,
jumping and voiding every lance of light
As the flowerheads bobbed in the hooting wind,
ever earnest and every more grateful

But I am voiceless. Agile I may be to skip and
stay keep my cloak of shade, the panic grows in
its fat and I can't stop hearing hums
For the warmth in me comes in waves

In flames that flicker and smoke my lungs without fear
As I race forward to find my tranquillity
so I can stop feeling so wild, to **** that feeling so fierce
And not face the light that will scorch me so

A cold glass in hand
So delicate on the nose
Wine of Italy

Such a rich sweet smell
Sparkling pink with berries
Of both rasp and straw

Sips from a Rose Sea
Tendrils coil down my body
Flowers bloom warmly

Cat jumps with vigour
Foxes come and coil in grass
Rest by solar lights

As this tremendous day comes to an end,
I cannot help but feel the buzz course through
me.
Fear had wrapped itself around my heart,
that itched with panic.
Now, it's warm and now, I feel so happy!
A high I haven't felt in years!
The lily in my hair truly was a light in my
darkness.
God had answered my prayers.
And to those who wished me well,
you have my gratitude.

Willow-swift beauty
Flowered fruits have earned her praise
For she is acclaimed

She of molded clay
Fingers trace the wooden ***
Poison whispers sweet

How tenderness lives in those gifted hands
that flutter, making keys of ebony and
ivory sing.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
"Remember," Ainhara says to the young maid,
"that towel is to be hand-washed only. Do it
with care as rose-silk is costly. Our reign queen
deserves the best but she is also frugal."
"Yes, my lady."

✿⊰✲⊱✿
As the maids leave, I walk out to my balcony,
curious of the sights beyond. Passing the small
seat and table, I take it all in. My Kingdom is
blessed by the softness of the evening sun,
from lands to sea, my high walls to the docks,
all is coated by an orange-gold glow.
"Would you like the Jasmine Pearls again,
Sweet Queen?"

✿⊰✲⊱✿
"No," I say, "I'll have the Dragon's Pu-erh
for the evening."
She nods, bows and leaves my chambers.
So much done, yet so much to be done, still.
"The crown is light, but the burden is heavy,"
I remind myself as the warm zephyrs blow.
The seas look so calm, as do the docked
argosies. The walls so tall, so proud, so
new. I am proud and happy for it all
standing, I welcome both old and new.
Even though there are time I do not know
what to do.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
'Let me relax...' I turn around. The seats are a
mix of obsidian and bronze with filigree
style moulding that make the back of the
seat; the same with the small table with a
vase of lilies. Upon the seat's lap, a round
seat-cushion on which I gently sit.
My mind seems to run amok with
thoughts so I close my eyes and let
the sounds calm and distract me.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
The calm seas, the bird's songs, the gentle
bustling of life below, the flapping flags
above, the heavy steps of patrolling guards
on the walls, the neighing of horses, the wind
blowing, the leaves rustling and now the
opening of my chamber door and light
footsteps - ever so familiar.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
As I open my eyes, Ainhana is by my side with
a silver tray of hot water, my tea-cups and foil-
wrapped Pu-erh Pearls in a tea caddie.
"And so Aurelinaea's Phoenix will will drink
from the Dragon's fermented Pearl Moon!"
"Indeed." She places the tea on the table.
I pat the seat next to me and she graciously
sits down and I peel the foil from the Pearls;
seaweed green, yellow streaks with hints
of burnt umber.

I just overheard
Koi fish do not have *******
In my sister's mind

Myths and legends I find
always have some truth
to them

And there are those who
create their own myths
and legends

That sort of immortality
shines for a special
starlit few

Who were never before
and never again

A concrete angel
runs her fingers through
silver strings.

Lose yourself
in the depth of her
sad blue eyes.

She glides over
streams of restless arms,
an empyrean light
flying through umbran
constellations.

She is neither
deaf nor numb to
their pain as her harp
sings with sweet sadness.
As she wonders...

How strange and sad it is
that death gives peace
more than life ever did.

Lamenting embrace
Memories are lost in time
Murmurs of a dream

Fortune falls on me
Answers take wing on whispers
Leaves without a care

Shame hinders my heart
The light ascends without me
I await the storm

The spell of worlds will flow right through
And wrap its arms around you.
In Fate's hand, the brush of night
that's drawn to the light.
Sing with me a song of blood, warmth and mist.
Here I float and I rise for a kiss.
Dawn cracks and dusk falls, as I talk to my soul.
Lost in thoughts all alone.

Hold up the quill, turn black to blue
with words of the consummate truth
And from a hand of love and strife
Tapestries come to life
Sing with me a song with depth, soul and heart.
In this world, light and dark don't depart.
Tides of setting suns, merge with the rising dawn.
Lost in thoughts all alone

Embrace the beams of the calming noon.
Just let the light caress you.
Within us all, a treasury
of gilt memories.
Sing with me a song of vibrating gold
Flowers bloom in the shade untold
Spread my fragile wings, the wind that I rode.
Lost in thoughts all alone.

People spend money like water.
Especially the wealthy. As water flows downstream,
more comes in.
But for the poor, they live in a constant drought.
The sun is harsh for them so they labor hard to get by.
Until more gates open for the wealthy, they will
never know the value of a single drop...

Silence falls truthful
Trouble brews of love long lost
Children laugh loudly

Raining of lovers
Love's embrace is free to go
Markets spread lively

Young women lament
Nothing now collapsing slow
Singers by the lake

Hear beats among friends
Riding over metal bridge
Silence in my mind

Fountains flows lively
Nature's grasp in tranquil minds
Flags drift over there

Why
should I feel
inferior by the opinions
and comments of others around
Opinions are never facts so dust it off
and move on and up
Though I know
I'm insecure
about myself
and the future
I know I'm a
dragon with
the breath of
fire All those
determined to
destroy me the
best way is to
set me on fire
watch as I die
watch as I burn
bask in that light
but know this
I won't **** my-
self over you
I will **** my-
self for me
burn away the
shame rise from
ashes and roar
like a dragon
Because once
I've hit the bot-
tom, my wings
begin to stretch
the way to go
now  is     up

Drink from Paradise's pools,
be cleansed and feel glorious
joy.

Let
the  sheer
genius          of
your talent speak
loud
      ♡
           l
                   e
                        t
                         ♡
                       i
                  t
          ♡
    s
p  
e      
a      
k  
    ♡
         v
             o
               l
            u
          m
  e
s

Rain                  
falling                  
in the stream                  
The savage winds                  
blow                  

                    One
                      thousand
        ­                leaves sail down
                         red, green, yellow
                     lost

The                                    
willow                                    
shakes and weeps                                  
heads bowed strokes stream                                    
sad                   ­                 

                               Light
                               it rises
                                It flies by
                                 A fresh golden
                                 sight

Rest on golden shores
Taste of salt in pleasure's waves
Seagulls soar and cry

-
I have no need nor want
for a scripted
heart
-

✿⊰✲⊱✿
Ahead is the grand side entrance to his
palace, but not before we ride around
his large angel fountain. Ever so detailed
from head, wing and toe and the waters
so clean before we are pulled to a stop
by the marble steps with a vibrant wide
carpet. The coachman comes around
and opens the door, and gently helps me
out of the carriage and then my ladies.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
Turning around, I look at the fountain
with stars in my eyes.
"My Lady, King Paul ordered me to give
you this." The coachman holds out a silver
coins with a lion printed one side, Paul's face
on the other.
"Strange, he usually gives me one."
"He said you most likely would like to
make a wish before you enter and the
other is for later."

✿⊰✲⊱✿
"He knows our Sweet Queen well!" Ainhara
laughs. Taking a guard's arm, we walk to
the fountain; my ladies holding the train
of my dress. Below, there are many silver
and gold below the water, and I clutch mine
with a deep deep wish.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
'Let there be peace and harmony for us all
till the end of our days.' I pray.

✿⊰✲⊱✿
I toss the coin in, watching it sink and
rest with its sterling brothers and sisters.
"My Lady, it is time," the guard smiles
and I nod.
"Time to let them know I'm here!" I beam
as I walk back to the marble steps and the
music filled palace.

I can't cope when my
page stares at me
White, soft and gentle
Empty, dull, lifeless
And the burden to fill it
becomes so heavy
My quill in the inkpot
Pen and pencils, unused
And I feel so flustered
when I am unable to
tell my truth

Words I think wither
Creative juices dry
My mind becomes a
disastrous chorus line
And I feel so trapped,
unable to talk with
my pen

I'm taken back to the
days where my soul
was heavy with pain
That pain was soothed
when I stained my page
with words because now
I had a medium and I
could go forth, confident
and free

When I stare at the canvas
I remember that little girl
who found a way to be
seen and still be unseen
That's the feeling I have,
was born with, that gives
me so much comfort
I can protect myself and
guard myself from how
the world wants girls to
be seen and how I don't
fit the mold

I find I feel more at peace
to be part of that world
that draws it breath
from the words
on my tongue
drawn onto the
canvas by my
right hand

But the words, I find hard
to pour on the page in new
verses. The page that is
empty and free, is
somehow grinning
at my misery

Wedding bells in mind
Play the harp with all her heart
Answering fortune

In me, the flames
of conflict has me in pain
Mind, body and soul

I look to the sky
And I see your helping hands
That now calms my storms

The storms of my mind
though unstable and turbulent
has finally calmed

Dissect yourself. Get down to the root
of what your demons use as their
sustenance, and cut
it out.

The Queen's done her course
Now she studies her new maps
For a new conquest

Her inner fire
It will continue to grow
as will her Kingdom

Blood is our poetry
Soul is our music
Hearts has our passion
Minds are our guides

From the shadows, the Hiddens Ones lurk
Transient life that make a cause immortal

In
the case of
being between the
Devil and the deep blue sea
I'd rather see red than have
a blackened
soul