"shangri" poems
*let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream
i am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been
to sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen
they talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed
talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear
but not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear
all I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
and my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
trying to find where I've been
pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
my Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
sure as the dust that floats high in June, when moving through Kashmir
oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear
let me take you there*
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
_las mujeres nacen de la tierra en la gloria de la más alta_
dys·to·pi·an/disˈtōpēən/adjective: dystopian:
relating to or denoting an imagined place
or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad,
typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one;
_"the dystopian future of a society bereft of reason"_
noun: dystopian; plural noun: dystopians:
a person who advocates or describes
an imagined place or state in which
everything is unpleasant or bad;
"a lot of things those dystopians feared did not come true"
[A dystopia from the Greek δυσ- "bad" & τόπος "place";
alternatively, _cacotopia, kakotopia_],
or simply anti-utopia; a community or society
that is undesirable or frightening; It is translated
as "not-good place" & is an antonym of utopia,
a term coined by Sir Thomas More
par·a·dise/ˈperəˌdīs/noun
noun: paradise; plural noun: paradises
in some religions; heaven as the ultimate abode of the just,
heaven, the kingdom of heaven, the heavenly kingdom,
Elysium, the Elysian Fields, Valhalla, Avalon;
"the souls in paradise"
the abode of Adam and Eve before the Fall
in the biblical account of Creation;
the Garden of Eden/noun: Paradise, Eden
"Adam and Eve's expulsion from Paradise"
an ideal or idyllic place or State;
"the surrounding countryside is a streetwalker's paradise"
Utopia, Shangri-La, heaven, idyll, nirvana;
"a tropical paradise"
bliss, heaven, ecstasy, delight, joy,
happiness, nirvana, heaven on earth
_a ********** who seeks customers on the street_
"this is sheer paradise!"
Middle English: from Old French paradis,
via ecclesiastical Latin from Greek paradeisos
‘enclosed royal park,’ from Avestan pairidaēza ‘enclosure, park.’
_Superficies terræ puella_
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC
Sam walks around the galaxies
and reaches for each star that he passes by
Hoping he’d get warm from even just one,
– or two
of those flickering lights
And I stared.
Sam wanders in circles
looking for utopia
under the bushes, above the clouds
Out there somewhere
there might be a Shangri-la
And I stared.
Sam examines the deepest seas
Two hundred, then five
– a thousand meters below
wondering if he can still build a campfire
and enjoy his sweet beer and s’mores
And I just stared.
But Sam stared back.
Sam pulled out his empty heart
and stitched me up in there
curious of how it would feel
So together with his heart I beat,
then I was beaten
Because Sam was a scientist,
and he wanted to know what love is
He wanted to test if it could ****
and I –
I was just his willing experiment
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
My fingertips will never let me forget the scent of stale cigarettes.
I was a fool in London. All the friends I made had better accents than me.
I dreamed of Bulgaria and Brazil.
I walked through mud. I waited for French tides.
I trudged in heavy water waders.
My hands built a house with stones older than the country on my passport.
The etching of cement on my boots still reminds me what we carried there.
We drove along tired volcanoes and craggy cliffs in the dark.
I never learned how to drive manual.
We flew further south. I dried out in the sun.
The glands of Spanish streets pulsated
citrus mist into the air, my lungs.
I never did remember the difference between limon and lime.
We stayed in a haunted castel but missed Halloween.
The upper peninsula, where Napoleon dreamed of a better dinner.
We moved to Shangri-La. Even in Eden, people still snore.
But there were cakes laced with flowers. And I was over the moon.
Then, a dreamscape. The closest to the Arctic I’ve ever been.
We ate deer for dinner. I baked Danish pies. I slept supine in a smoke-filled yurt. It was all peace. It was all over.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
I murmur in my heart complaints of the world’s state,
But shrivel at opportunities to effect change,
I drag my chains across the street,
My back branded by expectations whip,
My prison follows me,
Courage is coin that eludes me,
My mind dreams have made turgid,
Constructing a mirage of solace,
Thirsting through this urban place,
I yearn for a place afar from this globe,
Where human’s greed has not grown,
The desert of all deserts, red but has known no blood,
With teary eyes I squint at stars,
How to begin I have not understood,
The journey’s price is too steep,
Strawberry diesel is all I have to fuel this trip
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
*You arrived suddenly in my tangerine bliss
with my heart clinched in your fist
you touched me... and the dance started
with a gape of spontaneous combustion
you swirled me around the dance floor
dancing cheek to cheek....*
we skipped the light fandango
fox trotting and waltzing to the beat of tango
the big band broke into a swing
while the love light shone as a crystal disco ball
jitterbug jive and a reet beet
dance macabre and so light on our feet
*You lead me by the hand bodies musing
all the while... you lead me out by my hand
and made way into the galaxy for our feet
as we danced like fine wine...becoming intoxicated
by its beauty~ you danced me into Shangri-La
with my eyes wide and full of imagination
we danced through tangled forests of light*
like Fred and Ginger
tiptoeing upon the backs of stars
dipping into galaxies and twirling on quasars
i hold your hand as you pirouette
upon the moons of a mystic world
as our romantic lambada is unfurled
forbidden planets and forbidden dance
the secrets of whirlwind romance
*we were like Phoenix that had risen
dancing into the morning dew and nectarine
and I kissed you as the tangerines fell
from the sky~ dazed with a trial of stars
and then oh yes then.... I pronounced myself
as yours....as we escaped to paradise
dancing all the while.....cheek to cheek
as you gave me the Tangerine Kiss.....*
tangerine kisses, tangerine dreams
sipped of the nectar of the gods
the fruit of creation in the form of love
a blessing from goddess, earth and above
we dance the steps of swoon and lean
and sweet nuances of tangerine
with every blessing in between
*I felt a kiss upon my frozen cheeks
a clear promise of all our tomorrows
as I sleep with love within our hearts
your sweet tangerine kisses and dreams
are part of our creation... straight from above
My heart is dancing and dreaming
with you always a blessing from God.*
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Walking to work, I saw Joan Rivers
Blowing me a kiss today
Through a store window on Indian
With that smirk you can't mistake
I crossed on Tahquitz Canyon drive,
Said "hi" to Lucille Ball,
and passed a smiling Elvis Presley,
rested against the Welwood wall.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
On a fountain's edge across the street,
Sits a grinning Sonny Bono,
and just north of there you'll find 26 feet
of Marilyn Monroe shadow.
and Frank Sinatra's voice is still heard
Crooning through the air at night,
while here forevermore at the El Mirador,
you'll find the pensive eyes of Albert Einstein.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
When the stars die,
they might fall from the sky,
but they never truly disappear
cuz you'll always find them here.
This is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
Is this a Hollywood Heaven or a Hollywood Hell?
But this is where the ghosts of Hollywood dwell
the Shangri-La where the angels fell...
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Life is a puzzle
That won't be solved
By the argument of your mind.
It can neither be cracked
In ivory towers
Nor in the parlors of grapevine.
The mystery of life
Crowns the benighted
With a twist of a wand
Leaving the enlightened
To commune with the dark.
At best, it is a glass enclosure
Attuning your moves
Along the belt of blessing
Beneath the shelter of stars
And at its worst,
A dungeon floor
Delineating your lot
In unbending reality
Under the dome of despair.
Exposed to eternal pumping
Of raw information,
Student of life knows
But a speck of curricula
At any given time
The process of life's lessons
Extends well beyond the grave
Not even multiple lifetimes
May suffice to scratch the surface
Let alone discover the core
Yet the student of life
Knows no limit
Goes to village today
And metropolis tomorrow
Mounts a mustang to Shangri-la
Hops on a boat to outland.
Tantamount to the amount of stars
Are pictures of life
Full of synonyms and antonyms
Boding inflections and reflections
Of thought, taste and bearing
In the academy of day-and-night.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
back on the railroad
caught between the current
and the cold
how is it ol' Cassady died?
they say he rode the tracks
all the way to Avalon
say it was exposure
that got him in the end
secobarbital and second hand smoke
waiting on a wet sunrise
that never came
counting railroad ties
half way to infinity
hell of a way to go
the hero of two generations
hell of a way to go
not with a bang
--as they say--
no one there to hear the whimper
4am ticket to shambhala
Hank gave up the grief
weeks before he died
crippled and old
poor *******
Bukowski could
hardly walk
down those hallways
to hell
maybe Hem did it best
Ti Jean died from that almighty
weight on his shoulders
unhappy with a dead liver
and a dead spirit. yes,
Hem did it best it seems
him and Hunter
--football season is over--
felt the world
slipping out
quick as it came
so they both put a
quick one to the brain
all of my old friends
are dead now
one way tickets to Shangri-La
I see them
they all walk the tracks
but they don't wait up
they don't wait up
light one for me
Hank
I'll be there soon enough
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
I Am My Own
I am my own…
crystal Fiji beach
Mochachino
whip cream
cinnamon top
mango top
fresh picked raspberry drops.
I am my own…
mighty wind
triumphant friend
gift of love
fruit essential
one heart
one love.
I am my own…
dark blue calm sea
lemon grass-aroma therapy
honey sweet jasmine essence of love…
I am my own color of love.
I am my own…
natural mystic
secure spirit
Brazilian love
honeysuckle rose
Shangri-la high…
I am my own poet of love.
A slave bound by my own soul.
in control of control
releasing serenades
from a deep rich soul.
I am my own…
cry in the dark
shimmering lights
crescent moon
guiding light
hot lava
river valley low
Mt. Everest high
in between medium grey skies.
I am my own…rain to sunshine.
Daybreak
sunrise
midnight
moonlight
stormy weather
indigo blue
irreversible internal damage
my own worst enemy too.
But most of all…
I am my own
Unconditional Love.
© Copyright 2004 I Am My Own
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
Give a little bit of my Shangri La
back to me.
Lets recall the 99p Scotch best at JD Weatherspoons,
revisiting Bradford by National Express
because we saw "Bob Sue and Rita too" on Channel 4
and on a whim had to have
B&B; down Manning Lane.
Let's see tea shops show civic pride
serving a strong Bergamont.
No queue jumping,
spitting or cussing in the streets.
Lets not be afraid to care,
and go back to the early 1990s
on the cusp of the Premiership
to see Notts County verses Luton Town.
Their six pointer
with an overturned milk float to presage the desperation
and long before the aerobic internet entertained us.
Funded Public libraries
venturing openings on Sunday's
and thank Steg from
Scorpion records at High Wycombe,
grateful for all those post restantes.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
Crisp clean enlightenment rushes over my body
The things I once knew are but a distant silhouette within the winds of my past.
A swirling vortex of human consciousness is unfolding and refolding within itself before me,
It is time to come home
a voice whispers from within.
I step to the edge of the cliff
I leap.
Going into a free fall,
Billows of emotion rushing past me,
hitting my mind with the force of a million bricks.
Memories of the other world,
of Their world.
I continue to fall,
the stress of the other variables intertwined with the equations of my life are quickly diminishing.
The guilt of wanting something more turning into dust that coats my body.
I slip weightlessly into the clear waters of salvation,
washing from my body the grime of the day before
awaiting the renewal of the day to come.
My obligations to others and the sins committed to my soul are washed down the stream
I emerge anew.
This is my birth right
my bliss
my Shangri-La
I am home, at last.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 7:49 PM UTC
During a travel in Shangri La , the floating love in sunrays and choirs of birds opened my eyes.
And I found myself lying on mat on terrace with a handsome smiling man reflecting in sun.
While rolling mat , an invisible breezy naughty kid played with my messy hair and tickled and whistled in my ears.
Seeing this , the aunt flowers smiled and swayed in euphoria.
Closing the kid behind my terrace's door just before my way to downstairs, I sighed in relief.
And the kid went very far and higher and higher...
Capturing this moment , I poured it down into my diary.
Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 6:26 AM UTC
Chapter 1
-
two aspirin
a coke and bed pan
puzzled a chronic ********
and an upset stomach
Chapter 2
-
a thirteen year old Jewish boy
gets ****** off
by his mother, sisters
and the ladies in the neighborhood
to celebrate
just bar mitzvahed
Chapter 3
-
her blow jobs are Shangri-La
while sky shadowed eyes flutter
a slumber party ******
shimmers lips of **** confetti
finger ****** good
hoping to marry
eight inch packin
tattoo boy
Chapter 4
-
she married a stingy man
and her hopes of love
turned into a book of
instructions
protocols
and
standard operational procedures
Chapter 5
-
she masturbated
eyes bulging
into a scrapbook of horrors
thinking you're so handsome in a mask
with that rusty blade
her **** burned
like hell
Chapter 6
-
the amputee pouted
your knives
look great in a stained basket
go ahead
take an another arm
and a leg
as she sold off her
last gloves and footwear
Chapter 7
-
a starved crocodile
has his belly pierced
by an annoyed lion
turned
the meaty peach abomination
into cat food
Chapter 8
-
God and Satan
makin deals
for souls
burning cigars and incense
just more backroom politics
and strip-poker
Chapter 9
-
a mantra
on a subsonic level
liberates from the ravages of nature
beats back the ugly
of home made sin
when tragic turns magic
-
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 2:20 PM UTC
What words can describe the feelings he felt
when he met the girl so full of dreams and hope.
A girl who wanted to fix the world
and when she asked him those questions
his answer always was,
i will follow you anywhere.
He fell in love with a tree hugger
he loved her ways and her mother
but when she asked him the important questions
all he could say was that he would follow her anywhere.
she fascinated him with her power
how she wanted to find shangri-la
and discover things yet to be discovered
she would always tell him that the earth was such a strange and beautiful place
such a strange and beautiful place
that was being slowly wasted away
and all he said was i will follow you anywhere
she wore jeans and plaid shirts
and she wanted to protect the rainforests
she loved kids and all of their questions
but she needed more than he could give.
not all the faith in love in the world
could quench her ambiton
when her ambition
was bigger
than she was
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 12:13 PM UTC
We were playing with spirits
dancing mad w/ delight
oh splendid Dionysus!
Subtle sips of the forbidden wine
and I finally tasted
the banned fruits of Eden
Shangri-la da da di da
w/ a sporatic blend
the crowd walked on Neptune
the blessed leader of good vibrations
cosmic shaman
cast away the common folks demons
watch the collective cruelty
finally dissipate into ether rhythm
The spirit is w/ me
and we can dance on deaths door
dance right here
on the edge of the sphere
wearing only a hopeful smile
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC
*Tell me how good does this get to be born unburdened by the hand of another's gift
Tell me in language sublime of the scented wood in a forrested bliss of an ancient rhyme
Hear my prayer in a hallowed tongue flowing from the sacred river's babbling brook of thy kingdoms come
Listen closely and let them go, let them leave the maker's sign so they may find the hidden treasure that once was mine
Then from your glory, do not dispose the higher knowing that pour us forth eternally that we may grow in brotherhood, a timeless creed, a sisterhood of holy seed and greater good
Well intact, well ingrained, well to do forever fallen upon our promise of Shangri~la's eternal reign
We are One
One in the same
Spoken from the mouth of that which has no Name.*
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
My curves are not mad.
Henri Matisse, Jazz
when silence gives away its name
birds become electric
darkness is no more a story
in their wooden beaks
I stay at the beginning of thought,
decelerate reality
again and again
bread, pain, blindness
truth visits me in my dreams
sometimes
between desire & dying
shortcuts, blind alleys
Shangri-La and Valhalla
Nirvana & the hunting ground
Guadalupe
untitled self-portraits
fast heights
blinds & shutters
Spinoza's abyss
the chasm of reason
Kant's please mind the gap
pits of harmony
barren grounds
Prigogine's broken circle
lost aesthetic qualities
and the bit moves on
when silence is an unfinished canvas
waters, faces make an offering
and their names grow
when I am confused with the possibility
of the sea level
then I know where
my love
is
splitting every single second
is beauty
unadorned
could I remove the decimal point
from my dying breath
?
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
...1
Oh Middle Kingdom! Forbidden kingdom! Middle Earth!
The In-between
and Afterward, Within and Outside
this world's physical berths
Spirit realm and beyond the Further
Oh Heavenly and Cosmic
Mother/Father,
Imperial ruler of All creation
All us living,
Oh where are you?!
Ohm
Middle Kingdom, Forbidden Kingdom,
Goddess Love / God my King?
I am your word your fire your son
Awaiting for kingdom come
Our Universe of infinite Light
and Peace
not yet begun,
Oh kingdom! All that is One!
Life is yours and all below the stars
belongs to none and only you and yours!
Oh middle kingdom, oh middle earth!
Reclaim what was, is and further more
all of time, all of Truth
upon this shore and beneath this sky
we belong within your Light!
Oh Kingdom! Oh Heaven!
OHM Shambala Oh!
Ohm Valhalla Oh!
Ohm Forever Oh!
___________________________________
...2
Ohm Shambala!
in shambles
Shangri La contained
conquered by fists
ample weight
of walls of stones
another wonder
on hill of bone
Tourists and their Sherpas
'Tch 'Tch lost histories
when once
cloud city and magic
was laughter on the chicory
and wind
Oh peaceful wisdoms
my middle kingdom hence
rescinds to lifeless
beige and damning Greys
it appears it feels
like Hell ever since
The halls are unremembered ways
empty of God's good love
or wonder light of Day...
Oh Middle Kingdom!
Ohm Shambala!
Xin Nian Quai Le!
(You're a beautiful day!)
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 10:11 PM UTC
Owl's eyes see with prophecy
through the depths of
the forest trees' limbs
And those spirits...
Witnessing the past, present and future....
These eyes understand either
upside-down or backwards in
visions of blue
Like mirrors reflecting the sky,
owls eyes perceive the stratosphere
doorway in between light
and shadow-
Gifted as it is with a sprinkling of galaxies....
Owls eyes can see with magic-
Their pupils are portals to Shangri-La and Tartarus where ghouls waver their direction endlessly in a lemniscate
Even in the most moon-less night
they conceive palpably those ghosts that weap as they wander.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC
When light was treading the horizons of darkness
When leaves were rustling in zephyr
When butterflies were fluttering across the wilderness
When foamy flakes were shimmering like eyes of a heifer
I saw her; a noble matron
Enjoying the alluring aroma of rose
Her eyes were glistening like a naked natron
Sitting like my mother; in a statuesque pose
She gently drew me closer
And served my past as ambrosia
And told me to drink the elixir of present for future
Then like my mother, she gave me a bunch of gloriosa
As she started climbing the stairs to Shangri-La
My dream ended as I tossed and turned under the sheet of chinchilla.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC
Naked,
as the rising sun echoes
deliverance. Behind a shroud,
prowling the edges of Shangri-la.
Pounces to devour sea and sky.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
*Maculate Cheddar Moon nights o'er Aquarian countryside
Hinterland for young lovers , pathways for romance rediscovered
Shangri-La midnight glen , flaxen mane , astral beacons of
Smoke blue in concerto with Flame red
A reflection on a chosen star at curiosities unlatched gate
Traipsing rain washed , cool clover with strawberry tressed , porcelain 'Inamorata'
Ebony hour capitulation and seduction* ...
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC