My blank eyes stare
In bold frustration
At the white sheet
Sitting, calmly mocking me
On the plain brown table

The pen quivers in hand
My mussels shake with shame
But try as I might
My ideas are insanely sane

No bursting fits of passion
Or inspiring metaphors
Only a page covered in splatters
From my ink of internal wars

A block of metal in my mind
A chain of iron on my hand
Glossy mirrors on my eyes
Spiking needles in my thighs

Calling for me to get up
To leave this terrible attempt
But when a poets mind is blank
Like mine
About blankness will they find a rhyme

Before air became gas
And water waste;
Before light became lasers
And fireworks cannons;
Before cars got wings
And trucks got tracks;
Before rafts were raiding ships
And we breathed underwater;
Before sticks were arrows and spears
And we exalted ourselves;
Before Empires rose and fell
And rose and fell,
A femur crushed Cro magnon's skull.
It's a marvel
How any of us
Are here
At all.

1576

The Spirit lasts—but in what mode—
Below, the Body speaks,
But as the Spirit furnishes—
Apart, it never talks—
The Music in the Violin
Does not emerge alone
But Arm in Arm with Touch, yet Touch
Alone—is not a Tune—
The Spirit lurks within the Flesh
Like Tides within the Sea
That make the Water live, estranged
What would the Either be?
Does that know—now—or does it cease—
That which to this is done,
Resuming at a mutual date
With every future one?
Instinct pursues the Adamant,
Exacting this Reply—
Adversity if it may be, or
Wild Prosperity,
The Rumor’s Gate was shut so tight
Before my Mind was sown,
Not even a Prognostic’s Push
Could make a Dent thereon—

Your  voice
becomes  so small, all your hear are your thoughts.
Your voice
turns into a stranger.
A voice
you listen to every day;
A  voice
you  don’t  recognize.

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
For I am a poet, my dear
If only a simple, but heartfelt "yes"
Is what you would like to hear

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your deep brown eyes are lovely
I'll say they're luminous stars,
During my nights, they shine impeccably

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your smiles are charming
I'll say they're arcs of polychromatic colors
Stretched across blue skies, breathtaking

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your hair is just fine,
I'll say they're thin tails of wandering comets
Fascinating, plainly divine

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your dress looks okay
I'll say you're a glass of ice cold water
And I've been thirsty for this entire summer day

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If I'll still hold your rough hand
Darling, can an average human like me
Resist a touch so grand?

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
After one, five, ten, twenty-five years time
I'll say that whatever my eyes descry
Will be defining sublime

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
You're in love with a poet, my dear
Simple answers are not what I'd give
A mere "yes" is not just what you'd hear

Dream of a winter butterfly.
A drop of melted snow
In the Karakorams.

I rolled you up
Your insight, your beauty
And all the love you had to offer me
I threaded you with American Spirit
And tucked you in an origami wrap

From grass and earth...
To clouds
One hit
And the world went silent