Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Go to dharma. Between
sorrow and romance, tender poems
come in crowd. The pain uplifts the temple.

I forgave my past.
My seers lived on the stars to predict
the tremulous life to come. I stand firm.

Ups and downs, I
pray to myself to draw a lip line
to drop the luxurious gift of rich gods.
The ice has melted
All the flowers are in bloom
I shiver alone
Nothing is there to see in the sea
except waves after rolling waves
breaking with monotony on the shore
swelling and succumbing to sands.

Nothing is there to see in the sea
except the colour of the water
ever changing in harmony with the sky
and the lives that come ashore alive or dead.

Nothing is there to see in the sea
except the thunderous silence of night
teeming with silvery moon's glow
and the sprays that kiss like a lover.

Nothing is there to see in the sea
except the one eternal picture of life
birthing in aggression and dying in submission
afloat on the waves of transitory desires.
Tajpur by the sea, days and nights, April 11-13, 2024
i meander at the
depths of rock bottom stumbling
upon newfound grace and
gratitude.

the spiking stone all around
is dull to the eyes but makes
the ever-blue sky
come alive.

when i reach up to
touch it, i know that
i am too small to caress
those faint cotton candy
wisps.

but in my dreams,
i greet the sunrise by
perching on the shoulders
of those who dare to rise
above.
~
It's all about
to become reimagined
along a foreign coast

Embattled shorelines
an archer on the beach
girl in a sling
facing the other way
playground martyrs

Random acts
of senseless violence
the warm taste of human failure

~
‘ you mean it were the settings that was wrong ‘

yes.

‘so it was all your imagination?’

yes.
.
told frigid outside                                                          ­                    
within   love is stretched thin         this home   puckled tight
sealed  and buckled in      from all the social weathering
from the gatherings    in heated public yurts and gymnasiums
that fail short of ***** ****
from the bothersome geographic features out there          
       demanding expeditions, exploration and organization

within   we can see the fridge light                                      
                     ­                                in the middle of the night
we can receive signals and visions                      
                        but are pressed ******* our hearts
waiting out the winter wound
there will always be a place in my heart that desperately begs to be open
to invite the space for memories i had with my first lover
my karmic, winter lover
the opposite side of the moon who thinks too much at night in upstate

there will always be a place in my heart
that aches in agony
aches in wishes and prayer
to beg for mercy
to understand the acceptance of faith

and that is why i must keep this door open
i do not want to forget you
Next page