"rippened" poems
'
"In the world of mortals there's no greater perfection than music."
~ Impeccable Space Poetess
'
Divine music beats
bombard my being
as non-rippened ripples
The surface of my ear drums aches
without perfectly harmonious
sounds
complementing
Roses blossom in a quiet garden,
some lavish quietudes here, where
I've got enough peace and not
the right space for a siren's songs
enthralling enchantment
Searching at the random pace
for the most peculiar music ~
thunders in my thoughts!
Those undiscovered waves
appear as lustrous song lenghts,
as limbs of a sound corpus slumbering
in the solace of silence and rhythm
Deep bits bite my emptiness
and this wanton yearning
forces me to reflect upon
this uncultivated
wilderness
and
what's there to miss at all means
'
***lovable etudes
classical chello drifts
bansuri flutes***
'
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
To taste the red burst of rippened tomatoes
that catch a summer's glee whose
shouts run down airconditioned malls of daffodils
to reach butterscotch ends
To catch naive dewdrops on their final wave
-- gleeful regardless of their fleeting demise
on leaffy budettes as they hitchhike on blushing shins
that touch for just a second
To receive the cricket's call
and hang on their every word like
how the stars do on the night sky velvet
hung taut to stop the dreamer's upward freefall
To reverbrate down hymns
and ***** pipes whose rust subdued
by caramel oaken spirits and
cigars rolled with rebellion
To watch the twinkle of eyes
that unroll before me cinemated
like the rhythmic popping of corn seeds
and the anticipation of childlike hands
To surf the last yawn and sigh
whose ebb and flow crash on
pristine beds -- that soothes and prickles the ears
where the mind remains calm and restless
To sit with 4am and drink
tea or coffee (whichever it desires)
and have hours of conversation before
its teary depature
To the pilgrims' call of the first train
The satisfaction of staying vigil
simmers in the insomniac's stovetop
that seems to be low on gas
The need of slumber seems trivial at most
for dreaming has never known the diffrence
between being awake or asleep
or could this just be my mind that flurries
like jackrabbit thumps and heffalump nightmares
and honey dripping down my boyish chin
and mother napkins and lush lullabies
that whisper "go to sleep"
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC