You are
incipient
brilliance,
I eagerly covet,
unendingly
ebullient,
seems to be
in boiling point,
evidently
prurient,
an unfailing
euphoriant,
for me
a constant
element of
wonder
day and night,
But yes
I must not
forget this;
you aren't
an organic
compound
sans side effects.
More of a
a kick ***
designer drug,
that adds an
extra sense
yet, without
a legitimate
name to call it.
Aren't you
a hallucinant, though
yet to be invented,
I am hopelessly
addicted to.

Quickly he picked up
keenly examined
and seemed to admire
the handy penknife
with sharp blades,
quite functional,
she hurriedly pulled out
from the clutch she carries;
she was searching
frenetically for something
when it inadvertently
showed up, she deliberately
didn't pay attention
to his expressed curiosity,
yet her eyes adequately
answered his loud
unasked question.

In words he didn't ask WHY?
though it echoed in his eyes.

She cooks her dishes with such panache and zest,
as if both are  two new  dishes for me to taste,
her dainty waist, arrested my eyes,
then the mind ******, thunder thighs,
all I want is to stick to her all over like curry paste.

Regret is not
The fleeting deferral of
some brief romance
Regret is
the inability to react
to the irreversible moment
of something created
slipping away

(My boy Jamie being led
  into that bitter cold by
  a hand that should have
  been none
  but my own)
  
Photographs
faded pulpit dark and
winter noon grey
are but the same as
extinguishing candles
to mark , instead , what
could have been done
for the world

(I thought they were better off
being together
with their own kind
so I used to hurry past
them waiting for the trains
their children tidy and
smiling, nevertheless)

And the Angelus bell
will continue to ring
long after we all rot.
And the ghosts we share
will take all but their
names with them, to
be dug up for some
purpose of record
to fissure a cause for disquiet
along the nuns' walk wall.

(Before that, she had been
such a carful girl
and these days I
wince at the sound
of giggles which
remind me of hers.)

This hour of the night feeds me pain; I grieve for her, in vein
a river, when she did flow nearer, I floated on,  one could hope
only for an ablution, she washed away sedimented pain,
then, in a hurry broke away making waters muddied,
making things unclear, she becomes a rush towards other destinations.
A flower of arresting beauty, a scent never forgotten,
one would  be horrified by the thought of plucking her to keep for oneself.
but as one stands watching, she withers, loses color, falls after a while
as a fruit, she entices, eaten by passing avaricious birds
she is reduced to seeds strewn near and far and peeled off skin.

I see the tempest approaching.

It's coming towards me, black clouds with
      tendrils snaking
        thunder snarling
        Eager
        Hungry
    Coming for me

I welcome it.  Bring forth the pain, if you dare

I care not

I grow tired of being a leaf in the wind
with my destiny blowing me
any which way
every day

I fight to remain in control

No more.
No more.

I will plant my feet firm in the soil
as the tempest, she's boiled, she's wild
she's fitful and riled
she wants to defile me

I will stand, lean into the wind as it tears at me
tears my clothes, tears at my skin
rocks and twigs and dirt attack
I lean into it, I savor it

I open my arms, welcoming

The rain comes down in dagger sheets.
It pelts at my face, but I will not shield my eyes
I will curse and I'll scream at the skies
a guttural roar
a primitive howl
I'm yelling for more

I'm mocking it now

my voice rings clear above the sound
of lightning and thunder
striking at the ground at my feet

A pain so sweet

The tempest, it throws everything
holds back nothing
as it blusters and wails
continues to falter and fail

down to a rumble
tumble
down to a pitiful bumble

I still stand
hands are fists
I'm covered in mud, soaked to the bone

filled with pride and warmth and glow

I'm Reckless
I'm Brazen
I'm Arrogant

I'm...Triumphant

I survived this storm.  I will survive the next.
I will survive you.
Will you survive me?

wear that
                  wear this

Smile

don't laugh

don't. even. think

about the                aftermath*

little princess
in your pretty dress

little prisioner
naked beneath satin

little faker
pretending less

little liar
it's not the end

A castaway in the island of failed loves, my heart
moved in jungle pathways, lived alone in caves,
I sold it to a courtesan who courted it steadfast
never had I felt such an ease in my days dark.
Love is a clandestine merchandise in market places
by lovers, men and women of charm and magic
mixing power and allure, when the price is just right.

The street of our evenings was full of laughter,
my love life there saw many sunny seasons.
We walked hand in hand and my sweetheart was eager
to please me as my heart was full of  love's languor
the meaning of love was still obscure for me and her,
though we thought it was nothing but love, that
kept throbbing in our every vein, it really mattered.

To the tune of Blue Danube, we would wildly waltz,
the sad thought it brought, made me weep inside.
if the world is so wicked let's die together,
and I see her dance away totally inebriated
footsteps sounded near, we lost  true interest
pain was chasing us, all the way from behind,
we were disillusioned, love slowly got drifted
gently  dissipated breaking our hearts.

As I cross the corner of the street alone,
with my heart bleeding, often the girl for the day in tow,
I feel the pang of a heart, seeking my love waiting
the courtesan who kept watching me, her glassy eyes moist,
all these days of wandering, eventually our eyes met.

I sold my heart to the lonely courtesan, she wept, received it.

Mourning - you flew over indigo waters,
landing
Stealthy stalker you walked the shallows  
billing silvery minnows
On rust red stilts, you're built
to move in watery fields
Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms
rippled, your swaying seaweed room
Silent hunter,
feathery plumed