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In the kitchen,
......fragrance is eclectic......in spices
fresh, some stewing with other ingredients...garlic
ginger, and bits of pork, and shrimp paste, blending
flavors in boiling coconut juice...sliced eggplants, cut string
beans, squared squash, and squash blossoms will be dropped
soon................in a separate pan, fish is deep fried...

joining this redolence, is
the smell of plucked sweetsop tree leaves, and dry grass,
touched by rain.....raindrops shyly tip-tap on the hot roof,
flowing down on the eaves, dripping sparingly, softly hits
the steaming creviced grounds....a hushed sound follows...
red, blue, brown, beige roofs adorn the graying horizon...
too early for thunder and lightning...gray clouds hang low
...more tears from Heaven threaten to flow

the front garden beckons...awaits to be rearranged
.....peach, purple, mauve and verdant colors surround
........there's music! the air is rich with a mix of sounds:
the neighbor's washing machine is running...cats are meowing,
purring, the rooster keeps crowing...seems, dog is vocalizing,
a pleasant crescendo...as water in the basin overflows...
...i could see invisible arrows, leading me...seeming didactic
...where to go, what to do, this morning so eclectic
...but.....
i savor what remains of a late breakfast of red sausages,
......and the smell of almost gone coffee...so pleasant, as
drying bubbles cling to the rim of the mug......electric fans
are turned towards the table.....to dispel hot, humid air,
........plates are ready......there is always cooked rice,
...........lunch is served.


Sally

Copyright August 27, 2017
rrab
Her arms so arabesque,
choreographed by Balanchine,
smoothly flow
raise and lower
in time to unheard melodies,
A Flamingo when this lady
dresses.
Bees and birds stop fluttering,
watch, as
she pulls those stockings
slow, so slowly
up her silky leg
to heaven.
yes a repost
Good ten minutes to four
I reached the temple door.

Take your offer for the God
the flower seller was eager
no haste, he smiled
his time for a rest
will soon be over.

I wondered
why I'm never contented
with what God has to offer
and as a rule
my bag of grievances is ever full.

In the faint light
I held his idol in my sight
listening in the quietude
to the temple pigeons.

With great peace
I bought two lotus at fifteen rupees
from the flower seller
dividing our happiness
into equal share.
Reaching........for her hand........
a tether,
between two hearts

"Come", and I will take thee
to a new land...
and only "you"
Will know it's name"

"Where fireflies sparkle
as stars on an 'ebon' nite-
Where fairies dance,
as Luna sings....
Whilst' Unicorns feast
on the Heather"....

"Sleep... my lady, sleep"......
for the land of which I speak...
Awaits you
..............

"In your dreams"*


r.riddle: 08-05-2016
"Morpheus" is the Greek God of Dreams.
Caught up in the urging undertow
swimming against the stream's surging swell
awash in swirling back eddies
succumbing to natural undercurrents
relentless ebb and flow

we are not helpless
to swim against the leavening tide
lest we be breathlessly swept away
when spring melts the winter solitude
the  creeks do sing of rise and fall

yearningly drawn by a deep well of gravity
as high fountain snow-melt waters mingle,
steal away on the rise; migrate
unrestrained runoff rolling unturned stones
against the wind to the sea's abiding drum

oh river rouse from deafening silent winter slumber
oceans beckon to the confluence swell,
where all great journeying rivers diverge in perpetuity;
meld where the tide water’s restlessly lie
absorbed, unsung, infused unto - -
ever rolling currents roil
      
it's not the weight of gravity carried
nor the distance coursing burden's thorn
a faith in believing in this journey's unknown destiny,
how the shouldered load is borne

I was lost, alone in life's raging river;
in the river I did not drown ...


© ---
When at the peak voltage
streetlights **** the stars
and behind closed doors
rumbling slumbers
down the cries of the nocturne
awakes a world of opened windows.

Home from the last show
eyes colored with screen idols
shadows huddling over supper
talk of the length and worth
the plot intrigues and intricacies
the creator's whims and fantasies
while unbeknownst the night lengthens
tiring the shadows
that excavate the trash bin's bottom
for living through the morrow.

The filaments feel lonelier
as those last windows shut down
starlight wasted
on an enveloped town.
From a time long long ago
 Aug 2017 onlylovepoetry
bex
A moment cuffs you in the face
like Newton's overstated apple,
and the evening dissolves
into sharp, steady resolve...
You think about the extra drink you should have drunk,
the song you should have sung
and the man whose touch y so missed...

The Muse had disappeared.
**** Muse.

Every time you try to find news you want to *****,
not just a little, but expel the very core of emptiness out of you,
and you picked a fine time to stop swearing
because there is a man whose feel you have so **** missed...

The stars continue to twinkle across the Northern Sky,  
oblivious to the bouncing of our big Blue Ball,
un-answering dreamful wishes;
though, there are other stars lying closer to your heart,
a fresh start and the barbells below...  
And you realize
life is found in the letting go...

And the Muse reappears, smiles an aching, wondrous, Hello.
my young dog pulled her tie-out loose again
Daisy Mae followed Luke Duke out
into the country
followed him to I guess his love nest
in the middle of
the farmer's two hundred acre
corn field where she finally
got the plastic covered metal
wrapped around several
corn stalks
I could hear her baying
from a mile away
come rescue me. Luke Duke came back all
tired and refused
to help so,
I dived into
the field of over my head corn stalks
in August hot sun in Alabama
and followed the howls
row between row
until I found her.
Daisy was jumping grateful
corn silk dangling from her ears
ten or more of the farmer's crop
pulled from the ground
and twenty more firmly holding her still.
She and I  ate corn for a week.
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