✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿ ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿ ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿ ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿

                                That place of [Home]
                                        where
                                                      the
                                       heart
                                                    feels
                                                             ease
                                that place of comfort
                           where the soul can breathe.

                                 [Feelings] of warmth
                                       upon
                                                  the
                                                         skin,
                                       a touch of love
                                    from deep within.

                                A [Place] of gentleness
                                            amazingly
                                               divine,
                                        a loving heart
                                    this home of mine.

                                 [Sweetened] longings
                                                        ­        as
                                                             I
                                                   write
                                            this
                                   poem,
                                   for the one I Love
                                  my forever [Home]
                                        ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿

You are not                                                              ­                          him,
And I'm not                                                              ­                          her,

                               ­                                                                 ­            those,

the ones that we were before being                                                   us.
You were like that but now                                                                  ­             
You sound a little of                                                               ­            me.
    I was like that but now                                                                  ­        

I come a little from                                                             ­               you.

My clock never told the time
and looked silently glum

lost its ticking rhyme
with the pendulum
uprooted to be muted
hands dismantled
so you can guess
it made no progress
sitting pretty still
as I went about on my will
set my own pace
not bothering about the dial's arc
but scheduled my work
according to my when
till declared insane
and sent to asylum.

Since I've been sitting pretty glum
like the dead pendulum.

a pinprick, a spider crawling
down your spine raises the hairs
on your neck, itsy bitsy details
matter and questioning reality
as it stands when no one else is

oh ya mans, fight the power
the peace from within don’t come
from a god-lord-thing shoving us into
a box and no facebook can ever
hold me back

I come here as much as I can
Love the sounds and smells that surround me
It is just so peaceful and I love to people watch
I try and imagine how their lives are
Are they happy or in pain
Do they, like me, yell out their lies and frustrations
to be carried out swiftly in the wind                                                         ­ 
Are their disappointments and regrets
washed away by the waves as well...
Do they draw pictures in the sand of broken hearts
Do they become a beach scavenger
Searching for discarded treasures
I wonder if they come here as an escape
To renew oneself and just be
One with this constant ...our constant the sea

The orchid is flowering
Opening,
a living mandala
Next to my bed
I hear it in my dreams
It's telling me very strange things
About the chemistry between us
And what being a flower really is
And what it really means.

There's a lot to learn.

The orchid whispers in chemical symbols

I danced through the night one night
I drank water in the desert
The sweetest taste, I've ever known
I heard a sound I've never heard before
The buzzing of Chi
Blowing in
while the curtains fluttered
In the night time wind.

Our time I know is limited
Forever wilts away

But while the orchid is flowering
That's for another day

I find myself longing for the scent of the night and at least
One more dream to go.

The tune you played it ran so sweetly
I was sure Time himself had stopped
    dead in his tracks to greet me
And let believe all the while my soul
    had been enslaved
Such was the relief to my heart that it
    gave;
Holier than the sight of monasteries
    crouched in secluded valleys
Sweeter than the song of the bird in
    the green Summer's tree
So sweet was it that it opened a
    thousand as yet unsavoured dreams
And had my mind rest easy on the
    cool wind
Which swept over their prosperous
    seas.

                              II

The tune you played brought calm
    upon a boisterous evening
Though Sorrow came to me
When I saw you finish and leave the
    centre stage
For I had thought I might live forever
    under your enchanting spell
Far from the world in peace and
    harmony
With Love kept, not left weeping
Far from the wakening hour
From that chore of modern empty
    living;
It was by far the sweetest tune
It released this fellow songbird from
    his cage
And it all seemed like glorious Heaven
    these brief moments spent
For he who had longed always to be
    free.

                                Translated from the
                                original Latin of
                                Emperor Nero circa
                                40 AD (his later
                                period).

architectural mollusks
    are falloping through
                              my brain
                        squeezing past the
                         instincts that
        have kept me down
My instincts,
              once brittle sea stars
                          that splintered
                                    into cracked
                                 peppercorns,
                 are now mixed with
           the breathy liquid
        of squid,
lubrication for
the spiny paths ahead
They blow their ink
between my
inverted vertebrae
      injecting Jello into bone
                           busting through
                        fiber and tissue like
                          fresh-skimmed
                    lavacream
and all my muck
rises to the top
in a neon rawness
that I find beautiful

Soon
my burning crevices
will be cooled
fossils will turn to flesh
and, as sure as knowledge
springs into action
I will make
for the shoreline
like a cephalopod rocket
silky smooth
my fins spun into wings
touching magic
as they glide

Do I love you?
Do I,
Love...?

The words have stopped
doubled over on themselves
in pain
unrecognized

In truth
I wouldn't know--
you, Love?
But maybe from a picture
thinking--
"This is from where the poems come?"

Having never searched your eyes
with mine
nor heard your voice
invoke me

Known your thinking
in any given moment
Nor you, mine

Nor watched your hands
for hints
endear
affection
in expressions

Could you forgive my mess of moments?
the lame that years have left
so slow circles
the lonely artless?

socially inept

I fear
you could not forgive the fear
for so long
left behind

How can you say
you love me?

By what assurance do you

Speak into my void