Breathe in the sound
Beautifully rhythmic
Music for my eyes
Gaze upon a joyous energy
Touching your spirit
The passion you hold
Satiates my hollow dwelling

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
T­his poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव लीला" published in pratilipi on (June. 2018) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2Z9Z57t
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^­^^^^^^

His neck has entirely turned blue due to Kalkoot, This is just a Leela of Shiva
He has taken everyone's pain and sorrow for the betterment of the world

He is the keeper of all the three loka's and also called as Trilokinath
He hold the holy Ganga in his locks, but do not drinks a drop from it

He sits on the yellow Tiger skin mat and keeps meditating for years to come
He satiates hunger by Datura and Madaar and drinks Bhang to quench thirst

He has a marvellous third eye through which all the three lokas are visible
Sitting in the Mahayoga posture, He keeps on concentrating and meditating

Brahma and Vishnu also bows before him with respect and feels blessed
Such a beautiful holy Leela of Shiva.  Nothing else but Shiva's holy Leela

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^­^^^^^

Kalkoot(Line 1): A poison generated due to Samudra Manthan ( The Churning of the Ocean by Devtas[Gods] and Asuras[Demons] )
Leela(Line 1): "Divine Play" (Just a pastime)
Shiva(Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology

Loka(Line 3): Three three different worlds/realms. Swargaloka, the land of gods; Mrityuloka, the middle kingdom of men; and Pataloka, home of the Asuras, the fallen gods, and demons.
Trilokinath(Line 3): The Lord of the Three world/realms.

Ganga (Line 4): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the locks (Jatas - The thick hair strands) of Lord Shiiva

Datura and Madaar (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Datura stramonium and Calotropis gigantean)
Bhang (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Cannabis Plant)
Mahayoga (Line 8): Also called as Mahamudra – The Great Gesture (a posture for meditating)

A time was when
Nothing short of my deepest ******
Once and then many times more
Would satiate me

Then quietly crept between us
The hiatus

When I learned new ways to play
Chanced on a week a golden day
Then over a month or more

I had found the key to the secret door.

Now at the most heightened end of the affair
Satiates me a strand of her hair!

Waking up startled, to battering wind and rain.
Tide marks surging to great gasping heights.
Catching breaths stolen by the wind.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Watching idly by while pieces of you dissolve into the shadows.
I want those clouds weaving through my fingertips.
Their curious renderings like powdered ***** sugar.
Taste it and they fall heavy with gloom like **** death in the aftermath of such storm.

Counting the miles to the storm.
Ticking, tocking, and clicking.
The clock waiting in anticipation for the next thunderous sound.
Cold shivers up my spine like a thousand Carolina insults.
Your ghost still haunts and seeps into my pores lastly at night.
I taste defeat in the way you love.
It's like weaving clouds between my fingertips
Trying to grasp and hold onto every flowing motion of you pulling away from me

My cold, cracked walls are surged.
Towered over in their crumbling decay.
I want to taste your rain.
Your lips gently sink into mine.
Crushed velvet smooth and warm waking up the army of dead hearts ready for battle.
I am no warrior but there's blood painted across my sky.
Red sky in the morning, sailors warning, as I float on out into your turbulent seas.
Looking back on shore I realize that I'm finally home.

These seas roll uneasy.
Queasy.
Watching thru the mist towards our lighthouse that guided us to these depths
Trembling away like an afterthought.
The land has disappeared into the mouth of the shark.
Digested in the belly of a whale of angels.
Our sorrow holds us here, anchoring us to the tumultuous waves.
We battle our sea sickness with kisses of death lingering.
The soft pull of our exile turned oblivion.

Navigating with open wounds the silky expanse of midnight unwinding above us, within us.
Knowing us through and through.
An island of quivering vulnerability breaks the static horizon.
Lights, smog beginning to choke the sea air in my lungs.
Too long you've been left unkempt, grown comfortable.
That will change with new currents,
North winds bringing the frigid breath of winter.

Licking the sun off of the salty expanse of our sunburned red flesh.
The ****** of desperation lingers thru our moaning fingers
Feeling and pleading for our SOS call to be heard by anyone’s ears but ours.
The shores of this icy water leave my mind beneath the dredges of polar sleep.
We've grown strained, frost bitten, and distant in the few feet we are able to part.
The growling of hunger satiates our parched thirst.

I am rendered speechless adrift without you.
Hurricanes a coming.
Stand fast.
Secure the riggings.
Solaris brightens to light the way into calmer seas.
Those tepid shores of wonder and new beginnings fade into the horizon.
It's just you and me left to face the swelling tide.
Hang on.
The water is rising.
No one left to pull us saturated and insatiable from these waters of shadow and secrets.

The siren's song will bring us to our sharp shore end.
Resist the silky flow of nocturnal snakes wrapped around chilled flesh
Pulling closer to our aquatic hearts.
Hades and Persephone bond.
Glowing abysmal rage.
Holy grail veins.
Bleeding back into the orange crush dawn.
Night gives way to hollow rebirth
But once again we are inside one another.
Infinite.

These waves crash on overboard.
Trying to drag us back into the frigid depths with each ebb and flow.
With each crash of wave I can feel our resolve growing weaker.
The sensation of just letting go and giving in.
Should we let go and just give in?
Leave ourselves at the mercy of shipwrecks.
This hurricane dance we've perfected on the endless depthless ocean
Left us weak and willing to pull ourselves apart.
To taste our insides on the outsides.
How many times I've wondered have you noticed my stare.
The lustful licking of my sun blistered lips.
I want to taste the way you think and feel the warmth of your life to keep me alive.
The oceans call, I have heard, brings out the worst in sailors.
Always searching for the elusive siren to sing us a song.
A song from the depths of mythology to lullaby us away from our status adrift.

Our bodies collide in the tide once more.
Salted skin heated and torn
Latching on to something greater than just depths of starless prose.
You were a wicker man, weaved strong and whole.
I was a water girl, slipping straight through your bowl.
Wishes flow to and fro on tepid air laced with promises.
Our fingertips will never lose grip again,
the melody writhing between us like staccato heartbeats
Seeking solace on the endless seas.*

These waves rock us to shoreline.
Rock strewn and littered with the ribcages of whales
And the bows and sterns of shipwrecks long ago.
We pick up these pieces and hold them closest to our chest
Realizing the possibilities of a new home and a new start to this oceanic life we've drifted into.
We build a fire to warm our hearts and suspend our thoughts
Cradled and nestled in the crook of each others arms we leave our sea and our island
Soaring high into the clouds and the sleep we’ve begged for with our parched lips and swollen tongues.
Our dreams at night are the call of the sea begging to be drowned in our sand encrusted lungs,
To be one with us and our failures
The bequeathing cry of the seagull wakes us dully from our slumber
We peer out with sea salted eyes and realize it was all just a dream
We shout for help with all the voice we can muster
Letting in lungs full of icy ocean and dead crustaceans
Filling our bodies like bags of sand immobile
We’ve been sleeping with our anchors held closely
Down in the depths of the endless ocean rolling.

Prescient, her essence
Casts a demure persuasion,                
Endowed with verve and vision;
Concept to consummation,
The serenely possessed,
Creator, originator,
Allusion to the eternal azure,
Logos of abstraction,
Word and image collision.

Tonal palette of faith infused reason
Beauty and sublimity,
Serve to season
Verse, canvas and film,
Mediating aesthetic, seminal senses blossom,
Lyrical each permutation,
Seeds of vibrant chroma diffusing the mystical.

Visage and hair,  her figure haunted
With perfection - a work of Art
Nurtured and lived invocation,
The canon of taste;
Crystal for the *****
Devotional fragrance ,
Holistic ethos, melodic invention,
Animated, pure -
The embodiment of redemption.

Transcending form, parenthetically  
(Merely) the decorative,  
Allure, artistry and symmetry
Superlative complexity,
Her erudition satiates, supplanting
Winds of constructive banality.

Purveyor of an uncommon savor,
She collaborates in the peculiar
Pursuit and reward,
Encounter  with depth, explored,
Human and divine, prosaic meets sublime
Igniting within an Eros
Passion for truth, being and Telos.

Visionary of grace and peace
Transforming our earthbound dissonance;
Our caprice,
Hope and abundance, the myth of scarcity,
She narrates the Good.
Pen, lens, color and stage
Vulnerable, unrepressed, effusive
Romantic articulation,
The reservoir deep,
Innately primed conduit of Love.

Beyond plebeian, cosmetic, the trite
Woman of substance, pulchritude
And delight.
Effervescent - her smile exquisite,
Eclipsing suffering,
Wordless expression, understood language.
I am transported, my imagination replete,
Sonya Rose -
Art personified; unabridged, complete.

©2008 & 2013 W.S . Warner

Waking up startled, to battering wind and rain.
Tide marks surging to great gasping heights.
Catching breaths stolen by the wind.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Watching idly by while pieces of you dissolve into the shadows.
I want those clouds weaving through my fingertips.
Their curious renderings like powdered ***** sugar.
Taste it and they fall heavy with gloom like **** death in the aftermath of such storm.

Counting the miles to the storm.
Ticking, tocking, and clicking.
The clock waiting in anticipation for the next thunderous sound.
Cold shivers up my spine like a thousand Carolina insults.
Your ghost still haunts and seeps into my pores lastly at night.
I taste defeat in the way you love.
It's like weaving clouds between my fingertips
Trying to grasp and hold onto every flowing motion of you pulling away from me

My cold, cracked walls are surged.
Towered over in their crumbling decay.
I want to taste your rain.
Your lips gently sink into mine.
Crushed velvet smooth and warm waking up the army of dead hearts ready for battle.
I am no warrior but there's blood painted across my sky.
Red sky in the morning, sailors warning, as I float on out into your turbulent seas.
Looking back on shore I realize that I'm finally home.

These seas roll uneasy.
Queasy.
Watching thru the mist towards our lighthouse that guided us to these depths
Trembling away like an afterthought.
The land has disappeared into the mouth of the shark.
Digested in the belly of a whale of angels.
Our sorrow holds us here, anchoring us to the tumultuous waves.
We battle our sea sickness with kisses of death lingering.
The soft pull of our exile turned oblivion.

Navigating with open wounds the silky expanse of midnight unwinding above us, within us.
Knowing us through and through.
An island of quivering vulnerability breaks the static horizon.
Lights, smog beginning to choke the sea air in my lungs.
Too long you've been left unkempt, grown comfortable.
That will change with new currents,
North winds bringing the frigid breath of winter.

Licking the sun off of the salty expanse of our sunburned red flesh.
The ****** of desperation lingers thru our moaning fingers
Feeling and pleading for our SOS call to be heard by anyone’s ears but ours.
The shores of this icy water leave my mind beneath the dredges of polar sleep.
We've grown strained, frost bitten, and distant in the few feet we are able to part.
The growling of hunger satiates our parched thirst.

I am rendered speechless adrift without you.
Hurricanes a coming.
Stand fast.
Secure the riggings.
Solaris brightens to light the way into calmer seas.
Those tepid shores of wonder and new beginnings fade into the horizon.
It's just you and me left to face the swelling tide.
Hang on.
The water is rising.
No one left to pull us saturated and insatiable from these waters of shadow and secrets.

The siren's song will bring us to our sharp shore end.
Resist the silky flow of nocturnal snakes wrapped around chilled flesh
Pulling closer to our aquatic hearts.
Hades and Persephone bond.
Glowing abysmal rage.
Holy grail veins.
Bleeding back into the orange crush dawn.
Night gives way to hollow rebirth
But once again we are inside one another.
Infinite.

These waves crash on overboard.
Trying to drag us back into the frigid depths with each ebb and flow.
With each crash of wave I can feel our resolve growing weaker.
The sensation of just letting go and giving in.
Should we let go and just give in?
Leave ourselves at the mercy of shipwrecks.
This hurricane dance we've perfected on the endless depthless ocean
Left us weak and willing to pull ourselves apart.
To taste our insides on the outsides.
How many times I've wondered have you noticed my stare.
The lustful licking of my sun blistered lips.
I want to taste the way you think and feel the warmth of your life to keep me alive.
The oceans call, I have heard, brings out the worst in sailors.
Always searching for the elusive siren to sing us a song.
A song from the depths of mythology to lullaby us away from our status adrift.

Our bodies collide in the tide once more.
Salted skin heated and torn
Latching on to something greater than just depths of starless prose.
You were a wicker man, weaved strong and whole.
I was a water girl, slipping straight through your bowl.
Wishes flow to and fro on tepid air laced with promises.
Our fingertips will never lose grip again,
the melody writhing between us like staccato heartbeats
Seeking solace on the endless seas.

*These waves rock us to shoreline.
Rock strewn and littered with the ribcages of whales
And the bows and sterns of shipwrecks long ago.
We pick up these pieces and hold them closest to our chest
Realizing the possibilities of a new home and a new start to this oceanic life we've drifted into.
We build a fire to warm our hearts and suspend our thoughts
Cradled and nestled in the crook of each others arms we leave our sea and our island
Soaring high into the clouds and the sleep we’ve begged for with our parched lips and swollen tongues.
Our dreams at night are the call of the sea begging to be drowned in our sand encrusted lungs,
To be one with us and our failures
The bequeathing cry of the seagull wakes us dully from our slumber
We peer out with sea salted eyes and realize it was all just a dream
We shout for help with all the voice we can muster
Letting in lungs full of icy ocean and dead crustaceans
Filling our bodies like bags of sand immobile
We’ve been sleeping with our anchors held closely
Down in the depths of the endless ocean rolling.

ancient advice
for meal consumption..
tending livestock first
will bid well..
subdue their hunger
that part
of our soul..
food then satiates
tasted by senses
with flavor sublime
in pineal unity...

She’s brewing like rich wine
the older she gets
her each added faceline
my eyes satiates.

She’s huing like violets
purpling is her soul
tho older she gets
she's never too ole.

She’s frothing like nectar
honeying in core
feels endless this affair

I’m loving her more.

Mustard greens and butter beans and sweet cornbread all around,
And don't forget the crookneck squash, fried a deep and golden brown.

Mounds and mounds of butter, on the corn and on separate plates,
And Jesus’ blessings, our bodies to his service, before we satiates.

Buttermilk biscuits, pull-apart-monkey-rolls and corn muffins too,
And braided bread baked tenderly by Grandmother, just for you.

Country Ham and red-eye, fried chicken and sawmill gravy,
Ready to entice with all things sav’ry.

Sweet Vidalia onions sautéed in bacon fat,
‘Cause Big Daddy always knows, just where it’s at.

We gather together, hand in hand, pressed cheek to cheek in glee,
Our hearts knitted in happiness, we are family!

I drink aurora till my thirst satiates.
Eyes shut, I drink till the gulf widens whilst every spark in me is painted dull
Till no eye sees vividness in the flittering of butterflies,
Till throbbing fades and rumbling becomes melodic,
I drink till  my covertness is colourful,  
Till my eyes redness is painted
For bereft I am but I'm a fighter, a believer
I drink aurora till my soul is filled
Till transcendency becomes my fortune
And then I'll dance not in colours, but colourful my immortality would be.

unbearable pain has lift the veil from my eyes.
Oh, God of gods I see thee now.
You care not for worship nor tribute
nor songs of praise.
Yet, while the faithful in huddled rags lie,
Butchers rest well in slips of fine linen.
So let us know thee by thy one covenant kept;
"I am the lord thy God and thou shalt die".

For Death, not deliverance is the truth of your grace
and not man's adoration, but his rotting flesh
that satiates you.
Omnipotent, celestial devourer
unbearable pain has lift the veil from my eyes.
and I see your true form -

God thou art a maggot.

When brand becomes bland
and routine and rituals
move in rigid homogeneity.

When monocultures spread
like healthy cancer
and our volatility meter
sits still at fever.

When popular financial service
say, that "the center
can't hold anymore."

When sleeping frogs
never wake even
though the enthalpic
belly satiates fully
and any tiny misanthropic
speck will spark
nucleation around
a waking me.we

When these blocks
fire in the deep,

then our dog clan stirs,
a smiling hive feasting
on dead amphibians
left motherly as sustenance
to begin a Trickster's
journey.

"i'll love you until that balloon deflates"
a 3 am lie.
pining over old prom dates,
trying not to die.
don't act like we're first mates.
stop making me cry.
devours. he satiates.
i'm grasping air, i'm a shallow sigh.

You cut
You scar
You overpower

And by tattered bits we try to cover

You hit
You swear
You hungrily glare

And our body satiates your hunger

You touch as if we were clay
You cheaply play
You make us undeserving to stay

We are characterless
But you?
You are a gentleman to they

Frustrated
Butchering my nails
Counting the split-ends in my hair
Pulling them apart
One-strand-at-a-time
Staring at every scar on my body
Pulling the skin off my wounds
Bemused in exhilerating agony
There has to be an end to this madness
Put some sugar and wait for a house fly
Cover it with your hand
Feel it crawl and buzz, under your skin
Feel it shouting for mercy
Does it tingle, tingle enough, stop, then tingle again
You think it has reached your epitome of frustration
Did that make you feel better about yourself
Stare into space, make sure it is pitch dark
Wait for an epiphany
Tick-tock tick-tock
Take a vase and throw it at the wall-clock
Tick-tock tick-tock
That is the flaw with time travel
Time doesn’t stop
Your presence in the past where you don’t belong will not lead to your present and in turn to the past
Bottom line, you cannot **** with time
Every second you spent frustrated for the lack of time
That every second pointed its finger at you and gave out an evil grin
Can you feel it crawling under your epidermis
Go sit under a tree, with pigeons, those fluffy grey nothings
Let them **** on you, your hair, your branded shirt
When you stink enough pull the trigger, bang!
Watch its neck as it satiates the black and white canvas with red
Does it inspire you
You are lost and struggling and lonely, and frustrated without a thought, that counts
You are probing for purpose you may abhor
Your non-existant muse died as a fetus
You are now limit infinity tending to zero.

To **** myself or not **** myself, that is the question
I face an existential crisis every day
I want to hurt myself
I want to bleed, to wound myself physically because I can't deal with my mental
The questions and thoughts that plague me every day
I wish I could expunge these idiot things that run through my head
The stupid ******* people that cause me grief every day
Those people are the people I live with
The people I love
The people I work with
Every mother ******* person
I wish I could live isolated
But not alone
Live in my own colony of people that understand me as well as I understand myself
I wish I could operate normally
Not over correct for every ******* small iota of every tiny moment in the ******* day
Why do I have to do everything to such an extent?
Why can't I just be happy?
Why can't I just sleep a peaceful slumber instead of tossing and turning for hours before?
I hate myself
But do I really hate myself?
Or the circumstances that I face?
This life I live is not the life I want
I want freedom
The ocean
The sand to catch these unshed tears
The cold to hit my face
And something warm to embrace
I want ***,
But do I want it for the carnal pleasure or for the way it makes me forget for a time these turmoiled emotions I deal with every instant of every ******* ******* day?
I want a partner
But I can't trust

I'm so alone
I'm so alone
I'm so alone

******* I'm alone
How do I fix this?
How do I fix me?
I'm so alone.

No one will ever know the inner core of me.
Someone save me
I wish I were dead.
Someone **** me
I wish I knew real life.

Human essence is the dirt of the earth.
We destroy,
We do not conquer.
We forget,
We all still suffer.

******* us all to the figment of our imagination that is hell.
Every ******* one of us deserves it.

Burn us in a firey pit and then crush our bones to make the cement that holds us all unwillingly together.

******* **** me so I don't have to **** myself.

Nothing makes this feeling go away. No one satiates this gnawing numbness I feel.
I am a black hole that devours every good emotion
Nothing to replace it inside this empty space within me

**** me
**** me
**** me

the stories of women you write sonnets upon , or the ones on caricatures
i consume.
they're all fiction to me.

for the women i know are all looking out the window, wandering into endless abyss.
or waiting on tiptoes - to be tied down
in the bonds of 'holy' matrimony.
when they were young,
living on dictums of
father and brothers was an
unspoken, but frequently
enforced trend.
now no longer lean saplings, (who could be stomped upon with ease)
but sprawling, majestic trees
with branches chartering territories
that remain  forbidden  for the tree.
their offshoots
are sheared (for they can't be crushed with ease)
in the name of honour.
to ebb out all the figments of
rebellion, the tree
might hold in it's gamut.
still tamed in the garden,
a new gardener comes in place.
a slightly younger one, who
comes with his own tenets.
restraining her with a
strap, in the name of modesty.
he satiates himself by strangling
last shreds of revolt
her father couldn't slay.
the woman is caged in bars of shame,
all in the name of  honour.
yet again.
why is it that the women i know only lessen with age?
but the men smirk upon,only inflating their slyness. as the years grow on them.

i have not found it yet
the light that shines over my head
from a far i know i have seen it
but my heart and soul is still wounded

i want to get out of this misery
that satiates the darkness within me
but where do i get strength?
where do i begin?

i trust the powerful,
i know i have hope
but my wounded soul is still
heavy with the untold

Greedily *******
So cold
and wet.
Throat sticking
Needing sweet,
immediate relief.
Calamitous spill
Like river
through gorge.
Morning desperation
Drink until
water satiates.

I am in a constant cycle of make and remake.
Passion ebbs and flows from my core
Subjected to the company surrounding me.
Encircling, intertwining, tainting like a drop of black in an entire pale of white paint.

I have yet to find one person
That draws something from within my very being,
That entirely satisfies and satiates this gnawing in my stomach,
This unrelenting hunger.
What am I starving for?
What is it that I can not help but crave?

If only I knew, if only I knew.

Perpetual Ecstasy laces up the paper weights waiting easily the sleeves slip down the easel ritual by ritual window by window, fear of the unknown beholding the eye of the throne a pupil's pupil is as only as black as the destitute ashes that the charcoal carpools with as carbon.

A loud boom and my room mates with the environment the wind shook the winds croon the chimney like old saints nicking my fingertips with paper cuts dribbling like second graders yet not knowing really how to absolve anything.

Forgive me for my perpetual agony the ridicule of a two thousand year old initiate willing to dare to the caring rusted usuring raw ions fixated chariots blaring dub step as save the thief ****** but like the one who declares himself the backward ******* of the un-gold lawbringer. I am I am terrorist voted to be bring the third world warring down like a moment of courage steals life one fifth at a time.  An empty cup of Rest and relaxation sits as if an Eagle has landed upon the magic carpet beneath my now housed homeless feet, in defeat I stare grimaced at the plasma screen en-livid to the dessert sedition that lingers five hundred glucose lucid pancreas glowing green as bile, run like the Nile the white hawk head is now red.

Eat a lot of greens, the etiology of my disease is a well-borne cyclic machine. The Sun rose out this morning, my son rises like a glory. make babies the kids on the internet tell me today, last evening I didn't know If the twenty-sixth I needed to ask my manager in regards to my independence day behavior. Who knows why the egg cracks, the earth shakes, bowels quake, rainbows aren't strait, oceans consume no lightning, glass stands static at the edge of a liquid precipice...

My mouth grows less hungry every time i beg for poison, every trait i make justifies the lake that satiates it. poised to know no wonder, I lunge and mumble will i ever run outta thoughts to grumble? Or when my quills ink lacks luster the shine of mine metal will surely face the direction of my father. I here that its nice this time of year in the south, the Bronx zoo contains many types of creatures wishing to fend for themselves like an accident we harbor them from the elements they are designed to withstand despite the treason of nature they instill the greater curiosity of of our wits end freeing our passion to travel as nomads and allowing our children to just go down the block and right around the corner to feel the energy of the most fallen predators that ever roamed a far off land.

Like a pen in a century that knows no hand, like the apartment complex i science as my cortex my inhibitions fire like phone calls into my cerebellum, but how are the wires are connected. I **** in and out like limbs upon a Madrona, my internet protocol still sings my old phone number: Rest, Sabbath, human; Human, oh-so-serious, undefined, root. Yet the area code stays the same but the pages keep turning to a knew pain, as the numbers change so do the bills, as the money reigns so does the thrills, as the dew settles down so does the chills, as the root, monad, rest; oh-so-serious, rest, undefined, human sits determining a knew limbic to limbo to as he envisions a **** limo un-abbreviated appearing in his driveway one more time. I am just the house i live in, or am I a beast of happiness?

There is nothing like stepping outside on a chill morning
& standing barefoot in the dewy grass
with my eyes closed against the rising sun.

The light piercing my eyelids fills my vision with a calming sunset red
that perfectly visualizes the feeling of the softly warm sun rays
blanketing my skin as the morning breeze paints my body
with a fine chilled brush.

I feel each patient beat of my heart
singing a song with the morning birds,
the flowing river & the dancing trees.

The sweet melody satiates me with serenity
& if only for a moment,
I am happy.

The beast awakens on the lazy summers eve,
Stirring first with groans of a broken sleep,
Stretching it's soft and stiff muscles like the young pup,
But regaining suddenly it's full and fearsome strength.

The stillness is broken first by its lonesome howl,
Igniting a gale, a tempest of forewarning,
Stay back! Fear it's hot and sickly breathing,
Please, heed it's resounding and urgent calls!

The beast, swollen with power and hunger, spots it's prey,
Tendrils of mist, tendrils of darkness amass about it's body,
It's first longing, distant calls, now wails of pure desire,
It's hot, it's ragged breathing now a torrent of writhing winds.

With a flash, it bares it's glimmering teeth,
With a crash, it releases a shattering roar,
Blood runs, freely as rivulets of pure water,
Droplets of accursed life absorbed by the waiting earth.

It satiates it's hunger, and so fades it's desperate wrath,
It's ferocious howls soften to satisfied grumbles,
And finally the sweet silence of the summers eve returns,
As the final traces of the beast are swept away into the dying winds.

I'm on a high
I'm on a high
do you want to know why
I'm on a high

the man I love makes my heart soar
in celestial corridors
he's everything a woman
could ask for

that man of mine he's so sublime
I got to have his love all the time
how good it is
that I have his

his ****** of love
is such a strong bait
and it so fabulously
satiates

I'm on a high
do you want to know why
do you want to know why
I'm on a high

under the weight of the universe,
a breath becomes a miracle
against the law of nature, the pervasive
cling of gravity on everything it touches.

every bit of me is against
the pull of the earth. my ribs heave.
it satiates the hunger of my lungs
for space, for its place.

when I tire, and succumb to the force
demonstrate that in my most serene
- supine and asleep, I fought to live,
for every breath is a miracle.