"incarnates" poems
I just stood transfixed, letting her eyes light
the smothered wick in me that needed the oil of love
with anxious stutter I asked, "Is your name Grace?"
"It really is, you are right there, but pardon me
I am Grace Fallen" I took it as a joke and smiled,
"Dear fallen flower, your grace resurrects my crucified spirit"
I have seen them all, blooms, perfect, fragrant,
the ones that catapult one to momentary bliss
with a wink, a word that touches somewhere tender
or share love, fresh like butter, that seems gushing from the depth
that not even expect any kind of reciprocation,
blowing like fragrant breeze, caressing drooping trees.
Women with such luminance ,bless their ilk
whom one only could think as incarnates
came down to lift this miserable world
up from the quagmire, the ***** pit it has fallen
because of the absence of feminine grace in abundance
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 7:32 AM UTC
Cancer:
You bathe at night; soak
in the indigo twilight.
Exhausted from the
overload of emotion,
the lunar light cleansed your soul.
Leo:
Charming and cunning,
like the lion, you stalk your
prey. Find the weakness
and exploit it; start the fire,
and then claim your innocence.
Scorpio:
You are the end and
beginning of the cycle.
Reincarnation;
Take the heat, and rise from the
ashes in your final form.
Aquarius:
Water bearer, you
bring life to this alien
landscape. Barren and
undiscovered, this is your
chance to change the world. Long live
your work of innovation.
Virgo:
Tree branch rib cage and
ivy veins that nurture your
winter-bitten soul.
Precious sunlight has returned;
your garden will bloom again.
Aries:
The war going on
inside your brain is growing
tiresome. Your strength
is that of the ram, but you
can't always be the hero.
Pisces:
Submersion. Scared and
eye-level with the Angler.
Take pleasure in the
aesthetic. Perhaps a change
of perspective was needed.
Sagittarius (Father Jupiter Would Be So Proud):
Goddess of the hunt,
your need for adventure and
fearless heart combines
and incarnates the wander-
lust warrior that you are.
Capricorn:
Eyes like a doe; she
is wise, nurturing, and vast.
Motherly strength is
the coat worn over bared bones
and bruised knees. She's her own crutch.
Libra:
Neither side of your
scale may touch the ground.
Chaos may welcome
you with open arms, but she
will grow cold and deranged, love.
Taurus:
Though you are stubborn,
your heart is made of feather,
you fierce, burly ox.
Romantic and devoted,
the darkness in you is gold.
Gemini (The Twin Flame):
How exciting and
infuriating it must
be to look in the
mirror to face your best friend
and your greatest enemy.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
When we look deep inside,
Our hearts quaver, our soul
Shiver, our minds doubt,
Our spirit….uncertainty
Of which is which
One in all, all in one
We do not know.
When we worship,
He goes by the Gita,
She, by the Koran,
I… the Bible
All for one God,
Why the differences?
When we pray,
He praises Krisna,
She exalts Moha,
I pray Christ,
Avenues to one God.
When we die,
He re-incarnates,
She enters paradise
I awaits judgment
What injustice!
But …what if I were
To seek out the Unborn
And find the hidden balance?
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 4:14 PM UTC
I feel weepy
That house is creepy
Care less to be cowered
No time to sour
I hear a creaking sound
Under the cupboard hound
Is it a roach?
Or self hallucination that poaches?
I am alone
And my throne is blown
I want to hide and run
When the moon incarnates the sun
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 8:46 AM UTC
For Cathy and Marc,
The orchid wakes up to the rising Sun
And the aster shines on her his purest lights
She asks, with her blinding smile
“Say, am I the prettiest among flowers?”
And she opens up to him with her light veil
Whose diamond-like reflections are seen on this nuptial cloth
On her wet petals, the dew still falls down
Their hearts are linked, fusional like gold…
The Sun’s enflamed sight desires her
Singing a sweet lullaby to her ears
His honey-like chant reaches her
Empowered, she intensely charms him…
And the beloved dear feels a burning stream
Burning her like a radiating ray
The Earth witnesses in a new gleam of a morning
Two creatures of passion, in the wind, kissing…
To please them, a party is organized
To their wedding, everyone must be around them
They made sure to look sharp taking part
Happy witnesses, so in Love they can depart!
To you, listeners of this ode to life
Did you get the meaning of my rime?
The Flower incarnates the beautiful bride
And the Sun, her groom, his pride!
Translated on August 24 2015
1st place, Arthur Rimbaud prize, “Jeux Floraux du Béarn” (French poetry contest), 2009
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Bruno
he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice:
Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor. I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity. I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy ***** just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations. No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.
Caspian
Choreographed katas supplement his beast.
He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies. Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion. Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation.
Roland
He’s like a Mayan calendar. Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious. He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco. Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples. You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.
Sol
His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy. The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle. His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency. The weight of his words, the upward convection of their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant. He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge.
Richthofen
He is manumission, no more the faded vision of body incarnates ghosts. He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant. Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency. He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******** of pornographic wit. The incongruous incognito with no moniker. Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
You’re the Only One there is no other
You’re our Divine Father and Mother.
You are the One who first gave us all birth
You’re That which made heaven and earth.
You’re the One Who has the infinite treasure
You’re the One That can bestow real pleasure.
You are our Eternal Guardian and Benefactor
You’re the Source of everything and Enactor.
You’re the One Who is without begining or end
You’re the One Whom we need most as a friend.
You are the One Almighty and Supreme Being
You’re That Who is everywhere and All-Seeing.
You’re the One to which all creatures must return
You’re the One Who teaches what’s good to learn.
You are the One we should all worship and believe
You’re The Truth which all our troubles can relieve.
You’re the One Who has boundless Love and Wisdom
You’re the One that can show the Promised Kingdom.
You are the One Who knows everything that we all do
You’re That which can create anything if You wish to.
You’re the One to which all the world’s religions refer
You’re the One with Whom all creatures often confer.
You are the One That reveals knowledge to all those who seek
You’re the One Who favours those ***** humble and meek.
You’re the Eternal Divine Almighty Power and Glory
You’re the One Who has created this Universal Story.
You are the One we commune with by Your Sacred Name
You’re the Only Beloved Who sets all lovers hearts aflame.
You’re the One Who any amount of words can’t really describe
You’re That One Ocean of Goodness from which all do imbibe.
You are in fact all of life and That One Everlasting Infinite Existence
You’re the One towards Whom we all shouldn’t show any resistance.
You’re the One in the Many and also the Many in the One
You’re that One Energy by which everything does get done.
You are the One Who conceals and The One Who reveals
You’re that Ancient One Whom to every creature appeals.
You’re the One Who knows all of the past, present and future
You’re the One without a second to Whom nothing is obscure.
You are the Only One That exists and You are also eternally free
You’re the One whose True Glory very few of us ever get to see.
You’re the One Who is the Only Real and All-pervasive Being
You’re the One Whom those few You’ve favoured are seeing.
You are in fact the Ultimate Goal of all of life and its Sustainer
You’re the One Who is the Unity in diversity and its Container.
You’re the One Who incarnates in a male form throughout time
You’re the One Who is also The Most Immaculate and Sublime.
You are the One That gives Laws for us all to follow when here
You’re the One Fathomless Ocean of Love which is Most Dear.
_________________________________________________
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
We sit here with muscles
like warriors Incarnates
Remembering our glorious past
We steer like peasants
And watch as our glory
before our very own eyes fly pass
Oh lonely sky
on who's back the Eagle once once rode
Who vanquished our symbol of freedom
that above us once soar high?
Oh sacred pride
that now houses reptiles and beasts
Where is the lion
that on thee once ruled with iron fists?
It no longer roars
But in deep sleep it only snores
Oh waves
That once kissed our sandy shores
How mighty
Your hand that now break into our doors
Snatching our young ones
You leave our fathers in painful groans
And our mothers mourning their lost sons
Oh glory, oh glory, oh glory of old
How we speak about you
Like great tales our ancestors told
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
Bruno
he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice:
Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor. I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity. I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy ***** just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations. No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.
Caspian
Choreographed katas supplement his beast.
He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies. Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion. Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation.
Roland
He’s like a Mayan calendar. Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious. He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco. Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples. You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.
Sol
His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy. The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle. His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency. The weight of his words, the upward convection of their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant. He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge.
Richthofen
He is manumission, no more the faded vision of body incarnates ghosts. He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant. Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency. He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******** of pornographic wit. The incongruous incognito with no moniker. Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
The world will drown in blood,
Because they seek chaos.
Hellebores are black,
The hell-born are here,
Blood in their wake,
The world in blinding darkness.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Hell is empty,
And sin incarnates walk amongst men.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Not all are red,
They come in black too.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 4:14 PM UTC
The chagrin of losing incarnates itself
letting the heart drown and drench
in the pool of shattered hopes
All we left with are those paths we never took
should haves and if only s feeding on our self
and the music we embrace are the silent notes of agony
Welcoming pain as a reminder of being
blinded by the darkness of fate
The doors are open but all we see is the window thats closed
the chagrin never leaves the heart
squeezing out the reminders for a smile
the chagrin of losing kills the hope and
the dreams we adored will be turned to stone
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 1:20 PM UTC