Not a seat is left here
For your gentle grief
The ritual started a breath ago
And has not tired since
Not a glass is empty,
Not a plate unused

Now meet him in the quiet shadows
Of the garden humming
Itself to sleep
Now dance on with the beetles
You two,
For the hall in here is full

Not a gossip chirps the name
Of your long loyal lover
Not a searching glance
Birthed for him

Here, the ladies sparkle around
And spices giggle on tongues
Here, kings now stumble on their crowns
And goddesses
Painted on windows
Smile the lambs once killed for chastity
In their altars

Did I not warn you, beloved?
Did I not open the moon up
Vessel by vessel
And weave a castle out it all
Did I not surrender?
Spared a throne for him, I did
and a thousand ones for you
in my bleak little hall

I watch you sneak out into the night
Pearls kissing your cheeks,
And teasing your lips
Slipping down that slender neck
Shining a dawn
in the fading lights
Oh, how I envy
the silliest of things!

Precarious dresses
And grasses smothered
Beneath flushed soles

Oh, how I wait and wait
In the hall I slaughtered to silence
For your peace
The stars I invited, drunk on boredom
And sunlit teas
Warm no more
Oh, how I wait, I wait
My breaths away!

Not a dove dares mimic the grace
Of your beautiful grief
Not a moth dares look

You swirl about his finger
And the world does
About you

I sewed myself a dress
Made it prettier than spring
Oh, the laces hiss like golden snakes
And winter sits, a heavy shroud
Did you not prefer frozen lakes over
Golden flowers?
Why then, why then—

And as the dreamy plants
Whisper soft verses to your dress
You sigh happiness in his
Melancholy embrace
Oh, I know,
Not a shadow is left here
For me to blend in

How I wish I were him
your sweet, gentle grief
Oh, how I wish
I were a nameless goddess
Buried in the glass window of a rotten hall
Swaying to the sounds
Of your laughs

Don’t hide me in a shoe box
only in shoes fit for a king
I’m just a poor man walking
in rich men’s things
like the checkered jacket I’m wearing
the vinyl bag, tarnished rings
I’m just a poor man walking
in a rich man’s things
yet, there ain’t no way of knowing
how rich I am, that be true
unless you look down on me
smudge the shine right off me shoe
yeah, there ain’t no way of hiding
me pride or anything
when I pull out to dangle
a rusty gold watch, and silver tin
where I keep fine stained paper
and my tobacco rolled in
Like I say, me brother
I’m just a poor man walking
in a rich man’s things
among the high class dining
treating myself to their bin
I’m just a poor man walking
in rich men’s things
yes, I’m living the life
and nothing stopping
living every man’s dream
till I’m another poor man
in a coffin, with a chauffeur
in a black limousine

You were the best of me
I was the worst of you
we mixed together tints and tones
and shades of brilliant hue
you, a rose with the red
I, the violet with the blue
and that perfect purple Iris in between
inside ‘me’ and ‘you’

Over the horizon
Our dreams await,
Waiting patiently,
Patiently,
For us to listen,
Listen,
Echoing our soul’s desire,
Desire.

Dreams whispering
Between the mists of time,
Crying to be heard,
Screaming to be noticed,
Shouting to be paid attention to,
In order to not only live,
But to thrive,
To dance,
To have,
To be.

Is the beautiful melodies of emotions that seep into one's  soul.
13/6/2021

I’m afraid of heights
not because I fear falling
but because I fear jumping.

He had a great desire to say the unsayable, and he used poetry to not only fulfill that desire but also to make it appear palatable.

He had been deafeningly silent since birth. His worried parents had given up hope that he would ever speak. But when the enlightened Guru asked him "who are you?" Finally, he opened his mouth and unhesitatingly said, "I am the eternal silent spirit".

The Holy Spirit dwells where the human spirit does not venture.