Daily Archives: July 27, 2015

BECAUSE WE’RE LOVE

ooh so lovely
ahhh lovely
we push away
to grab love
and hear
the winds
rushing away
ooh so lovely
aah lovely
we pull
two hearts
together because
we’re love and
the world is
so aah oh aah
it blows my mind
because we’re living
in sound
ooh, aah, i see
how we know and feel
nothing it’s all around
ooh so lovely
ahh lovely
because i’m in love
with you

::


A PLACE FULL OF LOVE

i am epitome of insanity
it seems far away and so
gentle now as no shadows
fall from the skies for now
i was ill today but then
again i am not too ill
i am fine

today was the greatest day
the woman dressed in red
sitting in Merlot’s Place
silently threw-up a kiss
and i bought her drink!

and…

a heart pattered-flipped,
splattered painting the joint
in reds and yellow flowers
and the bartender sang,
“lasciate che questo posto
sia pieno di amore!
Yes! Let this place be
full of love!

so who is craziest?
the lonely one?
or one as me! Who
dares to touch all
hearts in life!

:: 07-27-2015 ::


THE LITTLE wasAS-me SOUL

the little wasAS_me soul
dancing so obliviously
into a tent i walked within
at birth as ‘me’ and unbelimished
i strolled, head high and heart
on fire! oh, the little wasAS_me
so learnt what life is and as
i was i become so much more;
the big isAS_my soul 😉
steadily walking sometimes
crawling but always forward
i must always have air!
for the air are breasts
two-apart by the space between
my heart! it is all of art
i live for!

:: 07-27-2015 ::


THIS HEART IN SHADES OF A COOL NIGHT

my HEART believes in shades
of cool nights beneath
the love of autumn’s breath
my soul is as when i am
laying aside my skin
and take each step towards
the heaven of belief;
so softly
so highly
so vulnerably
me –and sadness
as ants upon the leaning
door the storms have come
and my belief risen above
through each step towards
the heaven of belief.
:: 07-27-2015 ::


COME, SWEET DEATH

THIS! Each moment bathed
in blood and where oh where
is thy King?
The winds speak louder!
And dirt is stronger than steel
and when a soul screams:
“let us do something oh! Something
grander than this!”
And anger of captive souls so
deeply felt ask, “why must the
nightingale sing always,
when it is darkest before lit
skies crease my heart?”
Maybe true, maybe so — the
morning’s risen sun is God’s
own heart!

:: 07-27-2015 ::


THIS MOURNING SUN

Besides the morning, laying beside
carved within you a grand mouth
of the mourning speaking-Sun
beams brilliantly singing
how she prepared this day;
(sentiments are nice)
“The dead, but loved,”
are sputtering in the fields
as fireflies, the sunlit-bowl!
i could only reply, “to speak
of that age of skyfilled Sprites
and when fog was dragon’s breath!”
And are the rivers still bleeding?
Last fall’s snow still remains
as so many things within the air,
still; wishes, dreams, kisses,
and entirely collapsed spirits.

:: 07-27-2015 ::