Onoma

Onoma Jun 2017

Devi's song

is the only

song that

will ever

be sung.

She sang you

into existence.

Listen to her,

feel her,

love her.

She's the one

who'll lull

you to

sleep.

Her notes

wave, as

peacock-feathered

rests

eye your

end.

To a beginning.

*Devi is the Divine Mother in Hinduism.

Onoma Jun 2017

It's All Incense

a glass bowl filled
with seafoam-green
colored sand.
i ingather grains
to its center
with the bottom of
an incense stick.
a cross is drawn.
then i place it till perfectly
*****, light the tip and
wave.
its crown smokes upward.
when its meditation is
surrounded by fallen ash,
i remove the remainder
of the incense stick from the
center.
Working its ash
into the grains of sand with
a spiraling motion.

Onoma Jun 2017

Dearness Pushes

I love you to
all relation,
as in no end.
Which is why
dearness pushes
you away.
I somehow
trust you'll be,
as we leave off.
Akin to the
difference between
words and gibberish,
held together by mind.
My heart's always having
"That" conversation,
which begs to differ with
loving a body.
That will die.
Yet lives its excruciating
foreverness, where oath
takes your place.
I Am overcome
by the strength
that takes it.

Onoma Jun 2017

June Unction

sunshowers and settling
dust, raising the hairs of
a spider.
sea bulges of tar, flash-gashes
on pavement.
wish-strewn petals flattened
by wheels of time.
little beaks biting hazy veils
of sunshine, flying them along
in gentle rustles.
dropping them down on
inflating and deflating shadows.

Onoma Jun 2017

Access Granted

standing under a pinetree--
large zeros, zeroed in on
smaller ones.
till a bee's buzz was sourced.
a bumblebee banging against
a marble-size hole in a bough.
with every aerial fumble,
a buzz's bang--
the sound of baited breath.
till it cleared the hole with a fluid
wedge, its bulbous but pulsing.
its blinking black sheen eaten by
the hole.
as my mind ratiocinated: access
granted!

Onoma Jun 2017

Handless

hands fell from what
they could never hold,
settled in seawater.
were written away
by changing currents.
indelible marks left
traceless, bony digits
passed through clarity.
an instant ten-count
wash of blood, Jesus
Christ where'd they go?
they raised themselves
in answer, and worked
across a face that awakened.

Onoma Jun 2017

O Saraswati

Grace chose the poise of your
neck, what spring learned from
winter in white homage.
You longingly capture, and look
back at fate...your delicate head
sent slowly down upon its
pillowy body.
White, whited out...water clear
as invisible.
I dearly depart, I dearly arrive at
what dream settles upon you.
I loved you so much as you slept,
O swan, O Saraswati~