One drop of Dragon's breath
Stirs sleeper from dreamtime,
She wakes from the **** of creation
Where shadows dance into form
And reflections live in the past
Bound from silken fibers,
This ancient changeling,
Slowly creeps from cocoon.
Perching on branch
Impulses of flight and
A longing for air and nector
Breathe life into capillaries
And Rivulets newly knit.
Unfurling shape in patient sunlight,
Wings born of a great sleep
Reach into the light,
Waiting for droplets of life
To pulse in her being
Unveiling an opportunity
Where does her life begin and end?
She lives like a drop of water in a cloud.
Changing form from river to ocean
Evaporating to rise and fall
As snowflake on frozen pond
Where does beginning begin?
She perches on tree of life
As sap flows life into her veins
Like a tree she waits.
Once in darkness
Now life as Milkweed angel.
Butterflies are a beautiful mystery to me. My latest understanding is when they go through metamorphosis, they literally turn into liquid to reform. This has me in awe!
He put his head in his mother's lap,
closed his eyes, and was lost.
He felt a velvety, comforting
restfulness, beginning to spread
behind his eyelids, and over his body.
He evaporated, and was in the ****,
once again. In that musical ****,
where he was, before the duality of identity.
His mother's hand caressing his hair,
felt to him, like something he had experienced
when the ocean breeze touched him, but more intimate.
He lost his name then, and was lost to everyone.
Only his mother knew, where he was in those moments...
© Manan sheel.
it's not your baby
in the **** i carry
i need your forgiveness
we made no commitments
you do not claim me as yours
but i need your forgiveness
this is what i dream of
on an unsuspecting night
the child of my husband
in the **** in my body
and my mouth forming the words
i have never touched your skin
and i do not think you ever loved me
but betrayal comes in shades
and i feel ashamed to let myself
be without your company
there is a sense of destruction
buried inside my veins
from the absence of you
there are things greater than love
which bind us together and i fear
it makes my ground shake when i catch
a ray of color which matches your eyes
flushed in the green of the grass
or the blue of the sky
i don't know when it happened, but it did
you found a little home for yourself
within the confines of my mind and
i miss when you were around
it hurts to see you and i don't want to feel you
because the distance and the rain
the deep guilt and the pain
the fact that you feel nothing
you will feel nothing
my love for you finds itself
manifesting in instances extra-ordinary
my ache for you is buried within knowing that there is another inside the **** of me
and can't get rid of the voice saying;
this isn't how it was supposed to be.
a bird ***** its wings in Rio and there is a tsunami in Tokyo.
there is a tsunami in Tokyo and your father takes your mother to bed, calls her beautiful, does not raise his voice at her, does not leave her alone in a ***** motel room. she unpacks her suitcases and never leaves Missouri.
you do not form in her **** and she stops screaming.
a tsunami occurs in Tokyo and you do not exist and there is a break in the violence of our bodies. you disintegrate before me and I melt back into the earth where I belong and you never stopped loving me.
we unbecome the casualty of our own flaws.
we were never here. we were never gone.
a bird becomes road **** in Rio and you crawl into the **** of your mother, you are the 7th of 7 and the cause of your mother's stress. there is no tsunami in Tokyo and your mother packs her suitcase and leaves for Texas, she unhappily marries your father and stays with him to the bitter end.
there is no tsunami in Tokyo and your mother dies of lung cancer, your father leaves you in may, does not kiss you goodbye, does not look back at you, you pack your stuff and he sends you away.
the birds in Rio do not sing, Tokyo bay does not roar to life.
you are here. you cannot leave.
i got the inspiration from another poem although i do not know who it's by or what its called. if you know comment down below
Something is missing?
Had she forgotten something?
Had she turned off the cooker?
Can’t shake off the feeling
Her barren stomach
Un-filled with joy
Always monthly bleeding
Mocking her ****
Desperation choking her
Never to love her own
No bond with a pure and undamaged soul
Her **** an infertile home
I’m unable to carry a child within me, and even if I could, my condition would make taking care of a child impossible. Also there is a big chance the child would inherit my condition... and I couldn’t do that to anyone, least of all my own child.
A **** that wished
I was never conceived
Was no home,
For a baby that couldn’t
Breathe on her own.
in the face of tragedy,
innocence is almost aborted in the **** of Life.
furthermore, to keep this little piece of fragility--
this little bit of light that is left inside,
one being divides into two.
once arisen from the deepest of slumbers,
the face you see in the mirror
isn't quite the same one you saw
the night before.
puzzled, but too dazed to pose a question,
you continue onward
with your uncomfortable day.
when night falls,
your hands are around a neck,
stealing away the last of the air inside someone's lungs.
in a flash, your eyes open.
there is a tightening in your hands--
but you are too tired to wonder why.
you arise from your sullen slumber,
and look in the mirror.
why are you smiling?
Did you know that the night hides itself into your
hair? See, that's why it is so dark.
Your shimmer, love, swallowed me
and I am melting on your tongue of time.
You are likewise the **** and the tomb of mine;
what else the difference but a letter.
Pour your sun inside me and let me rest in your blaze.
Place your moon upon my very heart and see how
I become one with your nightshade.
My fate is a delicate line
in the corner of the eyes of yours.
You water and make it bloom with the tears of joy,
drawing the constellation of stars on your very face.
You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you.