"glidings" poems
The scents
the smokes
the spices that singe to perfection
I see my reflexion
A tossing ocean of blues and greens
the glidings of an embassy
unbeknownst to the bright world
the sea. I see my ocean
the sands approach and
island girl climbs
from shimmering lights
bright as sun reflexions
off the water.
Long tresses with thistle
and grasses
she passes the palms
Bare ankles soft pedals
Of padded feet on sand and stone
Roam
Just enough and not too much
time and quiet and space and the roar of surrounding
Survive the fruits of
strength and the climb
the herbs
the healing
scents
smokes.
the spices.
Island
companions
and treetop
roofrock
sounds
of night
healing leaves
grasses
and herbs.
Sweet drips
of fruits
that uncurl
in prying
palms.
Seeded beauties
with beads
of sunset
pearls.
Shells of milky
rainbow and
clashing
slate
and the
kick back
fire sky
night side
beats.
The beats
of
roaming clouds.
En-route to
the buttermilk
moon.
Purple
Arabia of
the Horizon.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 8:48 PM UTC
Across the plateau
The old fountain is
Quite new
In fact
Up
There is a better beat
A map of a jade lake
Reminded her of
Canues and free
Hiking rides,
Parachute
Glidings
Skis and skies
Playing with contours
Of trees around the
Shore, cracklings
Of tiny pebbles
Under her
Feet
Music in Jars
Shaking them
Vigorously happy
My laughter ! is a
Proof of your
Affection
Break me
With
Humourous
Tripple cascades
Enable cool
Water to
Vividly
Jump as
Mischievous
Children when
They dance The owls
Silent dance into the
First tinted night
A Waterfall
A tremendous
Magnetizing
Showering
Stares
Inner
Thoughts
She was a walking
Contemplation
Expecting her
Beloved to
Be there
She
Noticed
The Bycicle
Was not parked
At the bar's walls
Spirited eyes staring
At her steps and figure
He thinks he knows me
Then I am struck in awe
I know this wide fairness
Glowing across his forehead
He knows about the bluest
Seas yearning to touch the
Moon and the Stars on
Every woman he had
Loved. Passionately
Uncompromising
Determination
Speaking
Softly about his
Desire Wanting. . .
His poignant soul
Drowned in it's self
Familiar
With Self
Absorbed
Exploration
Solitude
Company. . . .
Even lovlier ***
Harmonic beats
Black trousers
**********
Black
On white
Yearnings
Loves rising
Loves
Falling
As a
Fragrant
Memory
As a Mirage
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC