K Mae: Favorites

Sep 2016 K Mae

Like stars

Sep 2016 K Mae

CA Guilfoyle

The taste of your mouth
it exploded, salt bright
upon my lips and I fell
reckless, haphazard
as the night was - of shooting stars
blushed, bright flashed, gleaming.
I fell, the thump and tumbling
of hearts, by the moon, love spun.
Your arms, bands of gold, bronze
gathered me - each part
like stars, one by one.

Sep 2016 K Mae

A Time and a Place

Sep 2016 K Mae

Sjr1000

A Time and a Place

In a palapa in Yalapa
Drinking mezcal moonshine
with a local named Rudolpho
He waves his hands in circles and squares
in candle shadows

Eyes turn inward to see

becoming a mind in the present
childlike wonder
big moon rising
pulling internal tides
stretching roots
grounded in the earth

Rudolpho knows how to laugh in colors
He knows how to dance Zorba style
arms held high to the diamonds in the sky

Nothing was achieved but everything was fixed

Zooming towards a universal experience
among the universal mind

Don't know where the night went

Rudolpho knows the ritual of the sun
Told me what I needed to know
singing
"Hurray another day"
while a parrot calls my name
and a scorpion slips into my shoe.

A palapa has no walls
I didn't either
all I was
was windows

Drinking mezcal moonshine
with a local named Rudolpho
he knows all about goodbyes.

Aug 2016 K Mae

Like the night herself, a fire of pine cones

Aug 2016 K Mae

r

Like the night herself, a fire of pine cones

I said I love you in the field of honor
and she was like a colt, her name
like the moon caught in my throat,
she was water I held in my hands
like the canoe I worked through the river,
and she was a flash at two-thirty
in the morning of the suicidal knife,
and she was a fire of pine cones,
a butterfly that lit on the float of my pole,
and she was like the night herself.

Aug 2016 K Mae

Writing

Aug 2016 K Mae

Lazhar Bouazzi

Writing

Writing is
the frozen music
of an ellipsis,
the silent song
of a lonesome poet
who sings in the dark
among howling winds
crossing swords
in the white shades
of unseen things -
a winter on the Pole
on whose obverse side
there's Rio,
and the Sun,
and the Samba
and the revenge
of the color.

© Lazhar Bouazzi, May 31, 2016; revised, August 5, 2016

My contribution to the Olympics in Rio.

Aug 2016 K Mae

What she whispers to the deity

Aug 2016 K Mae

Pradip Chattopadhyay

What she whispers to the deity

What she whispers to the deity

in her daily evening prayer
from her lips' quiver
I try to hear

I try to understand
what she asks of her god
with folded hands

is it her own welfare she prays
begs from the deity
well being of her family
wealth and safety

or her prayer is not that small
she asks god for the good of all

I am not sure
but deep within feel
her prayer is pure

through years of asking
but never receiving
she has quit
praying for any specific thing

she prays as a need
as an inseparable thought
whether god heeds her
or not.