"enfolded" poems
My lips stroll along sultry soft skin
I close my eyes , and see your curves with my kisses,
fingers caressing your belly in infante swirls as if polishing the porcelain surface of a statue,
You lay entranced beneath my gentle stroking , your tummy stimulating the rest if your senses, ******* yearning for attention ,
Strings of a harp waiting to make music, my canvas , your desirable body,
****** finger painting
I meet your lips with mine , for your stamp of approval, my hands answer the call ,
My warm breath ,
Brushes your neck with the stroking of ****** feathers ,
Intensifying the raging desire within your ***** ,
Remnants saliva painted with my tongue evaporates into more of a magnetism, you open yourself to me,
The weight of my passion envelops you
Our tongues dance to the rhythm of our beating hearts
Blood flows through our veins at an increasing temperature
Ignited only by the meeting of our lips.
Intensified
My hands continue to brush your body ,
Answering all the yearning calls ,
I watch you lose yourself in the heat of the moment,
And I continue to stoke the fire
And with a burning wave of passion,
Enfolded bodies
I simply love you off to sleep .......
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
http://m.wikihow.com/Unhook-a-Bra
Pinch the eyelets but oh so gently,
To properly unhook the device to safely release paradise
From it's containment chamber.
This be one of many secrets to unlocking
The mechanism that holds some of the happy things
The human body artist conceived
To perpetuate the
Species.
According to the internet,
To extract joy to the world correctly,
Depends upon both your station and your
Positioning.
Thus, it helps to have GPS,
Which most men think is that pointy thing
Between their legs,
But is not.
Given the laws of gravity,
And other natural limitations,
Sadly that utensil of little avail
In this surgical operation.
If one desires to release the tension
Between the connectors of the protectors,
Guardians of her heart,
It will be necessary to
Let your fingers do the walking.
So cut and paste the title above,
In your web browser place!
Do your homework or risk feeling
As petite as a schnauzer.
Seems your natural tendency,
Righty or lefty, matters in this endeavor,
Of which I was unawares, oft pressing the incorrect lever.
This, the likely cause of my spectacular
Teenage
Fumblings and failures.
Had I known that fact,
In the days before the Internet,
Surely I would have brought along my
Catchers mitt
To step up my game.
Sage advice the article provides:
*Get a bra, and practice, practice, practice!
It gets easier with experience.*
But methinks that is a bit of a
Risky adventure,
Lest you be seen boy,
Practicing upon yourself,
Or even a dummy,
Dummy!
So cut and paste the title above
In your web browser,
Do your home work or risk feeling
As petite as a pocket schnauzer.
But the most important tip
This wealthy article of information provides,
The conclusion.
In the hour of your desperate struggle,
Drooping
Ego
And
Crushed
Pride,
Ask for assistance from one more practiced,
Hopefully nearby,
Whose help usually comes with a charming smile
of touching condescension
For your male idiocy and verbal in-articulation.
*She, unawares, that you have got her
Positioned precisely where you want!*
For when you lift her up,
In a free state, the one Divinity intended,
and in your arms, enfolded and protected,
In one grand poetic gesture,
Sweep her off her feet,
Her surprise will be
**..
O
So Touching!**
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
Only friendship.
You made yourself clear - clear as glass - that it could never be more.
But as I too am glass, a small shard of me broke off and shattered.
And why did it ignite my spirit to be in your presence, to be enfolded in your warmth
Why, why did it set my heart aflame, burn me with such flammable, incendiary envy
To see you lust after another, to want far beyond friendship with them
Why did that melt me
I was already committed to another, no matter if it was a dry, barren whisper of once-existing love or a forest of endless rain
It was commitment
Yet in spite of this, I continued to melt
Melting, right down to my core
Where I am just sand
Vulnerable, exposed, walked-on sand that could, at any second, be picked up by the wind and taken to another pit of uncertainty
But you
You dropped the empty attempts
And you began giving me your time
You showed me the naïveté that I am, and you took my hand and led me through a dark room
It was cold, and I was afraid
And you could not tell me that "everything would be okay"
Because this was real, unfiltered life you were motioning to before me
And though it was not a fully comfortable realisation,
The cold slowly thawed, from the outsides into my core, my sand
And as I thawed, as you too made yourself more vulnerable,
I at last began to take shape
Perhaps I have a calling
Beyond this fragile shell I consistently run back to for shelter, return to when it yearns back for my unearthed body to be protected again
But I knew better,
That when you molt from your armour,
Its purpose has been used up, and it is now just an empty shell, and it is time for that shell to be discarded.
And now, in my infantile flesh,
I trust that you can be my protector until my new shell can learn to harden
I am still unsure today if it has solidified,
Because I am focused elsewhere
Focused on you
My heart's every beat feels light at the remembrance of you
My mind's every thought a whirlwind
From the dissonance of reaching for you and being tempted to go back under the comfort of my old shell, from the knowledge that these two cannot coexist
But my soul, my soul is nearing soundness at last
Because with you here, I feel that my honest identity is at last coming to life
With you here,
Your breezes blow, but I do not fear that I will be carried away
Your shore arrives, but I do not fear that I am going to wash away
Though it was you who dared grind me down to my initial state of innocent sand,
You have sculpted me, even with the uselessness that I've felt I am
Shown me my potential
And made me a flourishing seashore.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
enfolded in
your abundant legs
i find all the good
things etched
on the surface
of your
skin
like an egyptian
relief painting
you are worth
enough tears
to flood the nile
and re-write the
way the marsh unfolds
like the way i found you:
verdant discoveries
on sundays
and new ways
to say shadane
pragmatic star girl
i add your name
to my mental thesarus
like a new favorite
word
adoring and
absorbing your
lower-case
expressions
like second
nature
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Stands the Tree of Life
Of seven branches, seven roots
Each a mated pair
Crowned in white Light
My Spirit rests
Along the shore.
Where the flowers sing their songs
Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before.
Tazim, Tsum
All flowers sing their songs.
Oscillating
Undertones and overtones
A rainbow of petals in "Om"
Sounding Multitudes of Love.
Elohim, Jah-Jah!
Yahweh Hashem!
Creator
Father Mother
The First Trinity
Now, in Unity Stands.
I give you my raging canyons
Wind torn spirit, haggard body
Broken heart & soul.
Stepping into courage
Hand in hand.
Lengthening inhalation
Slowing it's release
Breath of Life!
Moving into the expansive
Show me the Light.
Sweet mercy!
I am weightless
In the green fields and rolling valleys
Tumbling among the rocks into still waters
Ashes of past pain
Afloat in silence.
All is white
within Light's embrace
Traveling 90 degrees to the right
Flow into the Sacred Heart.
Within the Holy of Holies
Is a rainbow
Where thousands upon thousands of colors
Each root within the seven
Stands the Tree of Life
Of Seven branches, seven roots
Each a mated pair
Along the shore
Where the flowers sing their songs
Listening to a symphony I have not heard before.
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Crowned in white Light
My Spirit rests
In Harmony's rhythm
In Unity Divine.
I am
In Unity Divine.
Enfolded in Harmony's rhythm
My Spirit rests
Crowned in white Light.
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before.
Where the flowers singing their songs
Along the shore.
Each a mated pair.
Of seven branches, seven roots
Stands the Tree of Life
Where thousands upon thousands of colors
Is a rainbow
Within the Holy of Holies.
Flow into the Sacred Heart
Traveling 90 degrees to the right
within Light's embrace
All is White.
Afloat in silence.
Ashes of past pain
Tumbling among the rocks into still waters.
In the green fields and rolling valleys
I am weightless.
Sweet mercy!
Show me the Light.
Moving into the expansive
Breath of Life!
Slowing it's release
Lengthening inhalation
Hand in hand.
Stepping into courage
Broken heart & soul.
Wind torn spirit, haggard body
I give to you my raging canyons
Now, in Unity Stands
The First Trinity
Father Mother
Creator!
Yahweh Hashem!
Elohim, Jah-Jah!
Sounding Multitudes of Love.
A rainbow of petals in "Om"
Undertones and overtones
Oscillating
All flowers sing their songs.
Tazim, Tsum
Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before.
Where the flowers singing their songs
Along the shore.
My Spirit rests
Crowned in white Light.
Each mated pair.
Seven branches, seven roots
Stands the Tree of Life
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 8:42 PM UTC
!!!
**Dreamt
a dream with childish eyes,
Burnt in the belly the flame of patriotic fire,
Decided to become a soldier and dedicate my love to my land.
The promise I made,
I cherished, I fulfilled.
Imparted soldiers duty filled with passion,
For my motherland,
My heart was filled with proud and patriotism,
Promise to die for my motherland held above all.
Today proudly,
I am enfolded in tricolor of my country..
For my last journey,
For my final abode.
Dream outlived me.
I will be born again to serve my motherland.
**
Sparkle In Wisdom
27 Feb 2019
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 3:48 AM UTC
I find comfort in the static of the record player humming,
the crackling of vinyl against its holding
your arms tucked tight around the curve of my spine
and waking up to the corners of your lips widening
this is a sunday morning
that I could relive
7 days a week
this is a feeling
I am near terrified of
but in a way that I need to be
see,
I have never been one for writing love poems
and when it comes to writing love
good endings aren't my specialty
I'm not one for spilling vulnerability
to then have to clean up the mess
after it goes without catching
I'm not the best at predicting future
and letting go
is an art form I am still mastering
I have never been one for writing love poems
especially not for those
who don't stick around
long enough to hear them
but for you
I am willing
to take the risk
to set aside hesitation
for the chance of lasting
to sacrifice my fear of heights
for the possibility of a smooth landing
I don't know you well
but I know you enough
to know you're exactly what I want
so I'll talk about your smile
how your dimples have quickly become
my favorite half moon to stare at
or the way you look at me
like a single star
in the middle of a busy Los Angeles sky
being enfolded in your grasp
feels like sun peeking through grey
how lightness makes itself known
even in the midst of rain
I want my skin
to find a home in your palms
and my laugh
an echo in the crook of your neck
for routine
to settle on the map of your body
from collarbone to knuckle to wrist
making a transparent dent in each earlobe
to be missed by my lips
to crave the caress of my hands
when they have other obligations
and I'll hope
that I can waste
as much time with you
as I intend to
although I'm sure
that any time we spent together
would be anything but wasted
I hope
that we can stretch these two nights into two hundred
weaving a weekend into something we can wrap ourselves in
this is me saying a prayer
the only way I know how to
I have never been one for writing love poems
but for you
it is all I want to do
to listen to the silence
and from it
form a symphony
to take this coincidence
and call it fate
to give out all of my honesty
and hope that you stay
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
From behind the bars of illusion, I saw a stretch of isle
Enfolded in airs so fresh, holding sun above horizon
Imaginations swelling with crossing of valleys
Thriving on smoldering of love so poisonous
From behind the bars of chimera, I saw a silhouetted soul
He walked besides me in a stretch of fantasies
His hand held mine through the summers of life
Bestowing showers of love every morning
Underneath the starry nights I dream of eternal togetherness
From behind the bars of illusion, I saw my being.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
Your lips are like a southern lily red,
Wet with the soft rain-kisses of the night,
In which the brown bee buries deep its head,
When still the dawn's a silver sea of light.
Your lips betray the secret of your soul,
The dark delicious essence that is you,
A mystery of life, the flaming goal
I seek through mazy pathways strange and new.
Your lips are the red symbol of a dream,
What visions of warm lilies they impart,
That line the green bank of a fair blue stream,
With butterflies and bees close to each heart!
Brown bees that murmur sounds of music rare,
That softly fall upon the langourous breeze,
Wafting them gently on the quiet air
Among untended avenues of trees.
O were I hovering, a bee, to probe
Deep down within your scented heart, fair flower,
Enfolded by your soft vermilion robe,
Amorous of sweets, for but one perfect hour!
2.3k
No, helpless thing, I cannot harm thee now;
Depart in peace, thy little life is safe,
For I have scanned thy form with curious eye,
Noted the silver line that streaks thy back,
The azure and the orange that divide
Thy velvet sides; thee, houseless wanderer,
My garment has enfolded, and my arm
Felt the light pressure of thy hairy feet;
Thou hast curled round my finger; from its tip,
Precipitous descent! with stretched out neck,
Bending thy head in airy vacancy,
This way and that, inquiring, thou hast seemed
To ask protection; now, I cannot **** thee.
Yet I have sworn perdition to thy race,
And recent from the slaughter am I come
Of tribes and embryo nations: I have sought
With sharpened eye and persecuting zeal,
Where, folded in their silken webs they lay
Thriving and happy; swept them from the tree
And crushed whole families beneath my foot;
Or, sudden, poured on their devoted heads
The vials of destruction.--This I've done
Nor felt the touch of pity: but when thou,--
A single wretch, escaped the general doom,
Making me feel and clearly recognise
Thine individual existence, life,
And fellowship of sense with all that breathes,--
Present'st thyself before me, I relent,
And cannot hurt thy weakness.--So the storm
Of horrid war, o'erwhelming cities, fields,
And peaceful villages, rolls dreadful on:
The victor shouts triumphant; he enjoys
The roar of cannon and the clang of arms,
And urges, by no soft relentings stopped,
The work of death and carnage. Yet should one,
A single sufferer from the field escaped,
Panting and pale, and bleeding at his feet,
Lift his imploring eyes,-- the hero weeps;
He is grown human, and capricious Pity,
Which would not stir for thousands, melts for one
With sympathy spontaneous:-- 'Tis not Virtue,
Yet 'tis the weakness of a virtuous mind.
2.3k
that He alone - held the lightning in
His hands - was the flash -
that lit up reality better than anything else.
Better than - the Sun -
can't run from - Crepuscular Rays
that brought forth irregular days
to which we - were blinded -
in a popular daze.
the conductor of this -
Splitting Storm - Blue streaks -
enfolded around us -
'til filled - with single-minded Zeal -
And - to seal the deal.
Gave us bolts of our own.
Those who showed resistance -
were shot down - and burned -
in a series of dazzling flashes -
now turned - to ashes
All that is left is a glimmer -
a glint of doubt -
that flickers - unsteady -
till it burns out -
beginning the blackout - that -
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 2:02 AM UTC
Along a winding meadow way
Circuitous and pebble strewn
Towards a brook and down a slope
As morning sun outshines the moon
An expectation clogs the air
And all about the flowers turn
To face a wave of tidal light
To catch ablaze but not to burn
A dusky fragrance lingers still
And gathers calm as mercury
In solemn spots beneath the boughs
It lies in perpetuity
The weaving breeze is powerless
And banished by the canopy
Abiding there a myriad
Of all of natures panoply
Drift along now deeper still
A clearing basks amid the shade
An isolated paradise
A lonely little woodland glade
Where early spring regains the lead
And ferns uncurl a welcome hand
The nettles bare their jagged teeth
And offer up a reprimand
A dragonfly takes up my path
And leads me into humid heat
She weaves amid the reaching grass
And safely guides my straying feet
Between the rocks and rabbit holes
That litter my vicinity
The creatures in my path retreat
All sensing my proximity
A fallen trunk now blocks my course
Like driftwood on the shoreline, beached
Its peeling bark is spiraling
And pale in the sunlight, bleached
Enfolded in its limbs I am
As if they shaped themselves to me
As though a plan of ages hatched
And formed a place for me to be
**
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
Can you hear the call of splendid change ringing in the air
The voice of fate resounding in a roar
You can call the sound you hear coincidence if you like
I believe that fortune is knocking at your door
You have spent your life preparing for a beautiful dream
To be painted in your heart like a rainbow
This promise is ringing in the air, resounding like thunder
Will you hear the call of your dream, or let it go
Within your heart lies the courage of the fiercest lion
Enfolded in your strength of compassion
This you have built in a lifetime of steady preparation
To follow your dreams and your passions
Look upwards into the heavens at the clearest sky
See the rainbow you know your heart is due
Good fortune is knocking with the brightest sunshine
Fate has painted that rainbow for you
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 1:55 PM UTC
When Death resolutely comes
Abrupt with his deadly summons
Tarry not like a galley slave
But like a courteous warrior behave
Do not waver and do not droop
As if you are to be hung on a loop
Never dread lying under the dust
With the body in a narrow vault ******
Know, it is only when seeds rot
That fresh and florid lives sprout
So when it is time to go
Strut like an indomitable foe,
With swinging hands and head held high
To be welcomed by angels of the sky
With the music of clanging cymbals
And the rising rhythm of sounding bells
Into a kingdom, bright and cheerful
And a state far radiant and blissful
Where the sun shall never set
Where blessed souls will joyously meet
Where Truth and Beauty preside
Where peace and bliss abide
Ousted out of terrestrial space
You’re enfolded in God’s sweet embrace
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 9:36 AM UTC
When I close my eyes.
Find you nearby.
It is just like the real world.
Chilly wind and too cold.
When I open my eyes.
With full of tears.
Coming out of the world.
Where you are special to have & to hold.
Out of my fantasy world.
I miss you and die.
To see you in my life.
I have to close my eyes.
None understand it and nobody cares.
Only listening our story and big cheers.
Just like music tune in their ears.
It is you only please
Understand my imaginary world.
Where you are enfolded with gold.
Where love couldn't be sold.
When I close my eyes
I feel,I am a king.
And you my Queen.
And you fairy with wings..
Holding my hand & flying so high.
One world to another world
No barriers no boundaries..
When I close my eyes.
Sun rays salute you.
Moon kisses you.
Morning wishes you.
Evening invites you.
And night waits you..
When I close my eyes.
For a short while.
To see your smile.
Your dashing style.
Your name in my hearts file.
When I close my eyes.
I lost in my world.
It is too radiant and shine.
Because here you are mine.
By shaffu..
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
By The Madman http://leb.net/gibran/works/madman/madman.html
In the silent hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whispers:
First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate no longer, and now I must rebel.
Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is given me to be this madman's joyous self. I laugh his laughter and sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance his brighter thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.
Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand of wild passion and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self who would rebel against this madman.
Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught was given me but the odious hatred and destructive loathing. It is I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell, who would protest against serving this madman.
Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.
Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who, with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images and give the formless elements new and eternal forms--it is I, the solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.
Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to fulfil. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, when you are busy re-creating life. Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?
When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy submission.
But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
on this Gothic
Sunday, rain's in
citywide confession.
deep ears listen...
some of these raindrops
explode midair, or never
hit the ground.
as on shadowy snuffs of
street, crows lay on their
back.
wings enfolded like hands
in an open coffin...feet stretched
out.
beak deformedly agape,
drinking...gelatinous eyes beating
beneath their lids.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
bury yourself between
sheets and covers.
stay all day
in your pajama and sweater.
watch the droplets
slide down the window in a race.
smell the hot cocoa
as the steam wafts to your face.
put out those blazing thoughts
with the sound of static rain.
maybe the chilly air
can ease those burning pains.
from busy to lazy,
the city's enfolded in peace.
at least for a moment,
all worries stand still and cease.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
These I Call
I reach, my feet toes digging into
the soft damp earth
this is the power of Body,
clay and sand and rock
this is the Grounding Point
This is the point of Calm of Rest
I Call North
I entreat the Earth
I acknowledge the Power of My Body
I throw my hands high reaching, yearning
the wind wends my skirt round my staff in Freedom
This is the point of Reason
This is Zephyr and Breeze and Gale
I call East
I entreat The Air
I acknowledge the Power of My Mind
Now I pull my Power
from deep in my core
call and play until it dances over my fingers
This is the point of healing Fire
This is the Power of My Actions
The crack of lightning and the snap of Fire
I call South
I Entreat Fire
I Acknowledge the Power of My Actions
Now I flow in not out
engulfed, enfolded warm and safe
as the day before breath
This is the point of Feeling of
comfort both given and received
I call West
I entreat Water
I Acknowledge the Power of My Feelings
Upward pulled with Luna Joined
With Sky and Moon I am rapt in a star filled bowl
This is the place of Consciousness
I Call a Sacred Place
This is Galaxy, Moon, and Stars
I call Up
I Entreat The Cosmos
I acknowledge The Power of my Consciousness
Through my mind and my core
Through that which makes me Witch
Through legs into Earth
Through crust and deeper yet
Slower it steadies and my heartbeat slows ,
and matches that which sustains us
I Call Down
I entreat The Core , This Sacred Place
I Acknowledge The Greater Life and Web of all Being
Mother Earth
From within now come Soul Spirit
Essence of Life
This is where My Lady waits
Goddess , Ancestors , Guides and Companions
I Call The Center
I Entreat The Spirit
I Acknowledge the inner ways and song and dance
Visions Quests and Dream Times
and Shadoewalkers
These I Entreat and Invite
These I Honor and would learn from
These are gifts to me
from My Sweet Lady
Among these I will wait
In this Sacred Place
Solita@2008
Jan 2, 2010
Jan 2, 2010 at 11:18 AM UTC
He opened his eyes in a night sky,
Waxed black and fed by dews darkness,
Ebon and incarnadine mists consumed the air,
One hundred ravens in coracinet played
Soft music gliding her pale feet,
Quivering a flutter she swayed dreaming,
Before his black oak door,
Long his finger enchanted the path,
Fluttering onward in rapture,
The bell rings and rings,
Come dance, dance with thee,
Enchanted ye be
Her naked withering pallid body,
Of silk and chiffon he enfolded,
Her lips tasting amber and figs ripening,
Coruscating maidens swirled an epitome of dance
Not until she was dark grown repentance,
Renouncing all others,
Only then he shall devour upon her,
A bargain be struck,
Swept away riven by her dreaming plea,
My lady crowned dance with thee,
Beholdeth spelled she be troth,
And the Raven King hungered upon her lips
Forever radiant enchanted black,
── Unto the dance of night, his eternally bound
© Arnay Rumens 2015
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
in the indigo skies
above the peaceful lake
flew an alabaster swan
she coursed a furrow
through the thermal air
her wings fluttering
in graceful decorum
as the eve shadows
fell upon the lake
she rested neath
a weeping willow's branch
for there she'd
be enfolded
in he moon's luminous light
as stars did sprinkle
glinting sparkles
over the lake's glass surface
as the break of the morrow's
brilliant blue sight came
her wings did rise
to take to flight again
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
One small moment
can be so infinite,
in vibrations grand
as I watch the universe
burst forth and expand
I sit upon the desert's ground
feeling the abundance
of Life, abound
How it envelopes me
and takes me in
as I become one
with the cosmos,
stars exploding within
It swallows me whole
into vastness so sacred
for we are all enfolded
across ancient
frames of time
our condition vulnerable,
souls naked
looking out into this
diamond-flecked magnitude
in crystalline,
sublime
For inside that far away,
milky density
of celestial spheres
we are part of the now
part of the here
and, as the firmament
continues to move
my starry-eyed soul
begins to groove
******** state
from meteor's flash
tranjectory arcs
in a second's bright dash
A miracle of
cosmic magic unfolds
before our very eyes---
a gift to behold,
a spiritual prize
and as we hold our breath
from meteorite to star
I think about this
concept of far
ponder upon the waves of space
and time:
an axis of fine-woven threads
that binds
and know that under
these spark-induced skies
our journeys fuse
our hearts,
our eyes
Our spirits the
reflection of comets' haze
our dance of
shooting stars,
ablaze
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
in the indigo skies
above the peaceful lake
flew an alabaster swan
she coursed a furrow
through the thermal air
her wings fluttering
in graceful decorum
as eve shadows
fell upon the lake
she rested neath
a weeping willow's branch
for there
she'd be enfolded
in the moon's luminous light
as the stars did sprinkle
their glinting sparkles
over the lake's glass surface
as the break of the morrow's
brilliant blue sight
came
her wings did rise
to take of flight again
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
Up until
a few months ago,
when anxiety
had enfolded itself
around my brittle bones,
when the innumerable
butterflies in my ribcage
had begun
to breathe their last,
when my whole body
had been a gun;
the pen and paper
in my hands were
the only safety switch,
and the poetry I would write
had been my only salvation
from the melancholia
of existence.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
Raise, for your experiences, a city.
Build a warehouse, down the block,
Where you’ll keep the cosmos.
Build a bookshelf, within a brownstone,
Where some other things can go.
Like the time you grasped a flower,
Felt beneath, felt the spines that
Pricked your skin,
Made you cry.
But that shelf will be revisited many times,
In this fragile, crumbling zip code,
Forsaking more majestic memory palaces,
Because the vision reached your soul,
Through pain,
Of all that beauty, soft, red, enfolded into itself,
On such a slender stem.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC