so now
That the Iris opens her eyes upon early morning sun
that the wind dances her showy flowers and is luck
the lost voice of forgotten lovers?
some Not
when wind forgets its dance and green devours
(feelings) by nature’s beauty shall the fisherMen
of hearts sail from continent to unknown places;
their gravely instilled by amorous desire.
some NullAS not would never go there.
:: 01.21.2021 ::
i wish I had more time and opportunity to explain my disgust to your rust-stained sarcophagus. To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.
Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth to your rust-stained sarcophagus!
To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.
Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth and your heart could only love the person who feeds it for nourishment — is a difficult task; so you resorted to Cupid’s slingshot!
But here’s an alternative: follow my heart down the garden path, until my sticky feet block the entrance of Cupid’s grave.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the paint bucket and I will lay it on a canvas of life
It was exactly 14 days since you told me you left the store early.
14 dreary days and I do not think you’ve been here once (not that I
would blame you for believing it).
14 days since I was mean to you, and then you said you’d be back
by 14.
:: 12.24.2020 ::
The nasty dark night ate the sun!
The farmers wailed against the dim moon,
“Be sane, or make it otherwise!”
Yesterday i awoke with a torn brain
against lover’s thousand acidic eyes
ripped apart by dying beds.
My screaming wish held but just Ourselves–
and Immortality.
:: 12.21.2020 ::
As my sensational sensual moments bleed away and are no more seen by the vilest minds
my face deep within the riches of Earth’s soil away from unthought wars!
Unburdened by high wilt of human rine–
as pure Love has championed over darkly love.
And smallest voices as new born children spiritually cries of Spring keeping new born
butterflies afloat, is where Love strives
as droll god-beasts!
Such is the dance of perception as a reflection
through a prism; or early morning dew drop.
Time that not be for us — as purple roses
are sweeter to the but for me: deeper!
:: 12.21.2020 ::
CRU
SHINATELY
AIN
CRU
SHINATELY
is Godless
PUR __ ,
pose
AS WORDS that cry
and break SILENCE ——
(endbegi ndesginb ecend)tang
lesp
ang
le
s
of EnteralL i ght
WE eat blood and flesh
2 B e per Fect
PAIN IN OUR H8ARTS
LO ve
Lit(
-tling-
for souls
of) ! (a. Sprit because we
Adore Birds for they sing
our SONG —–
Y & es
(all from the e
ter.
nal. Universe.
KEEPSUMMERGROWINGBEAUTIFULFLOWERS
OFLOVE
:: 11.21.2020 :
confession: my life is emotion more than words which i write
that emotion speaks to me more clearly than the tongue
and a written word- better a feeling sometimes, a little
just a kitten needing milk and others, a beast untamed
nothing can stay it’s rage a prisoner am i; a soul cage
emotions — my dwelling hole and at times the mountain peak
but often middle ground — therefore when you speak to me
know i am feeling each word that, emotion speaks to me
more clearly than the tongue and a written word- better
:: 04-04-2014 ::
my part a half of whole
a thought a slice of more
that my life lived and soared
my part your half our none
an emotion : the wave of ocean
that my life becomes
Life and as one
what more
than one and whole?
:: 04-03-2014 ::
rev 07192020
How long….how long can i hold your hand
within the darkness of this night!
Look! The moon shines — sweet heart / shines\
i have not felt flesh moreless a caring hand within this
venture called Life. Beautiful.
And now you chance the winds , the rain, and the world?
and of me?
I am drunk, high … i am fixated upon beauty of a heart
as you are.
We could cross the road toward wilderness or toward
the concrete city — i prefer wilderness.
Where we can be brilliant intelligent animals fornicating
under the silver light of the Moon.
Stay near. Me. So that I cam smell your skin and fill
my lungs with you.
:: 09.09.2020 ::
FROM history a golden step,– among
memories from ancestors, gray
gauzes, and broken bones that
turned back tyranny as bronze
liberated Souls and children
in the sun, no, i regret nothing
No, i regret nothing
so paid for, done, forgotten
i do not care for the past
pain, blood, and miscarried
hopes — i’m done with the love
and trouble of Life so i start
over with nothing!
:: 08.02.2020 ::
TONIGHT i could write the
baddest words: i could not
care where i am going –>
over the thin red line —
she was in a trance/
i put a pound of love
inside a quart of expectation
— will Shakespeare says
” do not go running away ”
but i hit the grown running
TOWARD CHANGE –> nothing stays
the same: change (i hear you
say) say, hey! every era
has words to express change
yea yea yeah — i say change
is a beautiful vagina of flowers
….
:: 07.31.2020 ::
 | Kritika on WHAT IS LOVE |
 | Shanyu on YOUR LOVE MADE OUR WORLD |
 | YOUR LOVE MADE OUR W… on YOUR LOVE MADE OUR WORLD |
 | asthaisha on L I S T E N |
 | Abhir Khanna on A LARGEST NIGHT |
