"nighttide" poems
The demonic and turbulent truths of the mind
Will crush me in the end
Not least the nighttide's narcissistic vow
Into darkness I descend
Where the black pearl gates of tar-pit Hell
Will know the grief I send
In here I'm birthed
In sunken Earth
To greet my only friend
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
Swimming in the dead of night
No one around, just the stars and the moon.
Pondering the magnitude of experience
While unconscious minds dream of desire.
Blindly drove familiar roads,
Downtown and it’s graceful emptiness.
From under the cork tree, listening
Looking, this is where life takes us.
Developing minds undergo stationary grind
Routine, schedules, predictability
It’s all the same, same, same.
Astonishing how “ordinary” is a waste of living
When wisdom comes from active engagement.
Take flight of letting go
Who cares, there’s a whole world to see.
Hundreds of places to cover
Millions of people to meet
Trillions of dishes to eat,
Who knows of great encounters?
The explorer within won’t welcome monotonous
Continuity of revolving time.
Into the wild at Gorilla Manor
Chances taken, fears defeated
With wide eyes, crushing ignorance a day at a time.
Dawn ended the nighttide of epiphany
But yet, still stimulated and awake
To spring off new highs on the road of recreation.
"Now", at no time, felt so thrilling until this ending moment.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Seized by the ever so passionate caress of the dazzling nighttide
Underneath the sparkling twilight of the enchanted starlit skies
My ears were serenaded by the beloved sound of your voice
Carefree we journeyed deep into the after hours of midnight youth
With nothing but the cadence of our hearts swaying us along the edges
The intense spark of romance had swiftly become an airborne ecstasy
Driving the yearning desires crawling within us directly to the surface
Darling please rub my heart and tell me that you feel what I am feeling
This magnificent power that you bestowed by just a subtle hint of a whisper
Struck me with such a powerful impact making it hard for me to walk away
Aug 26, 2011
Aug 26, 2011 at 3:13 PM UTC
The early bright chased away shadows in its slow rising scintillant song. Very little stars were left in the sky.. The purples and oranges that painted the sky soon turned into atomoshere blue. The dawn-to-dark song was in full bloom.. The lyrics sung about colors the light of the day would award my deep brown eyes. Some of them also spoke of the coming nighttide that was well on its way to catch us all. On eventide I walk up to the hills.. The night slowly makes love to the day and lays her down to sleep.. There I begin to count the stars.. Until there are to many to count.. As there is no moon to shine down on my star parade I clearly see the vault of heaven in all its beautiful cosmic glory.. The night is in full bloom........
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
What rises at night but calls to me
That cymbal-crashing, moaning sea
Draws me through the humid air
Woe is me, again nobody is there.
And in the water that I can see
Reflects the moonlight back at me
“Murky Mirror, call me close,
I love you though I am morose.”
And then the ocean whispers so slight
Its voice is silvery, quiet at night.
“What love is this, from your heart?
Words mean nothing, they’re empty, ****
“But I am more!” Cried I to the sea,
“And I came here to set you free!”
And so the sea sobbed a mist,
“Your eyes are dark, love you twist.”
Then I again yelled to the nighttide,
“Why fight then, if you just subside?”
So the irate waves get loose
“My soul desires your water’s sluice!”
“If that is your wish, then so be it.”
And for the sea, my life I quit.
Like a raft, I drift away
From my dreams, I’ll opt to stray.
I do not know where I’ve come to be
In my pelagic life on the sea
But while I drift here alone
I can no longer hear that wretched moan.
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
All alone, thy soul shall this accept, 'mid gloomy concepts of the tombs of the dead -none, of many, to meddle in thy secret hour in depth: be silent in such aloneness which is not quite a loneliness -for then the phantoms of the perished who walked in pilgrimage near to thee are nearer to thee in death; and the will of these, the inheritors of this mass, shall thine own will surpass.
The nighttide-tho cloudless-shall scowl, and the eyne of the sky shalt not look down, from the great heaven's with a beacon like Desire to mortals upon the ground: but their red pyre with ire, to thy fatigue shall seem more than some blazing fire, a delirium, which could adhere to thee hereon and forever -an enigma to confound.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
When sun on Taormina sinks
Its lull will paint the evening still
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.
Far yonder star, in silence, winks
So well aware the air will chill
When sun on Taormina sinks.
The boundless vista slowly shrinks
With twilight tints at nighttide's will
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.
And, all at sea, the ocean drinks
The gentle rain from off the hill
When sun on Taormina sinks.
The solar sage above re-thinks
And yields a sundown-coloured spill
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.
The light of dawn here interlinks
With dark of dusk, the day to ****
When sun on Taormina sinks
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.
Jul 20, 2022
Jul 20, 2022 at 2:51 AM UTC