Tag Archives: #writing

A GIRL WITH KALEIDOSCOPE EYES

WHEN i think of my precious mind
and i am just down there
just one more wine ~~ we’ve all
gone crazy ., in the small room sitting
and thinking, “Just one more drink”

rolling inside the head /that had
me almost tied\ like butterflies
flying away bye bye | i saw her
: alice running inside the Rabbit
Hole \ reality hypnotized almost
had me tied || i now realize
how the never showers of rain
like dirt dammit — i am sick
and tired of my head but someone
saved me______almost had me roped
and tied ~~~ and like butterflies

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

We ate marsh mellow pies and coughed
a lung and used it as an umbrilla

The deep immortal human wish,
the timeless will:

           Cinquez its deathless primaveral image,   
           life that transfigures many lives.

   Voyage through death
                                 to life upon these shores.

And the line at the theater was long so we rode off
finding silver roads and lights within the skies

And Gluck said:

It is not the moon, I tell you.
It is these flowers
lighting the yard.

I hate them.
I hate them as I hate sex,
the man’s mouth
sealing my mouth, the man’s
paralyzing body—

and the cry that always escapes,
the low, humiliating
premise of union—

And lucy sings her song in the skies

:: 07.07.2023 ::


DOCTOR BEAKY OF ROME

AT the scene of suicide
plague doctor of Marseilles
stopped by with two small
nose holes in a mask;
a respirator containing
aromatic items — beak
holding dried flowers

Blessed is me
while i am a beak of terror
keeping away evil smells

All according to miasma theory
all my costume kills
before the children wail
so i am the plague doctor
of Marseilles aka ‘Dr
Beaky of Rome’
Follow me into the Sun

So follow me as One
such absurdity is life
to be born without a gun

i am the wounded One
you are the victim
the victim of life and love

:: 06-01-2016 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Doctor Beaky of Rome” explores the theme of mortality and the role of a plague doctor in the context of the Marseilles plague.

The poem opens with a vivid scene of suicide, drawing attention to the dark and morbid atmosphere.

The presence of the plague doctor, characterized by the two small nose holes in the mask and a beak holding dried flowers, highlights the doctor’s role in combating the plague and protecting against harmful odors.

The phrase “Blessed is me” suggests that the plague doctor finds a sense of purpose and fulfillment in his terrifying task of warding off evil smells and the threat of disease. The reference to the miasma theory reflects the prevailing belief at the time that diseases were caused by noxious odors or “miasmas.” The doctor’s costume is seen as a form of protection that inadvertently contributes to the deaths it seeks to prevent.

The line “before the children wail” implies that the doctor’s presence and actions may cause distress and fear among those he aims to save. Despite this, he continues his duty as the plague doctor, earning the nickname “Dr Beaky of Rome” for his association with the city. The phrase “Follow me into the Sun” could be interpreted as an invitation to face the harsh reality of life, even in the face of suffering and death.

The subsequent stanza introduces a shift in perspective, urging readers to embrace life’s absurdities and contradictions. The phrase “such absurdity is life” suggests that the inherent contradictions and unpredictability of life are inevitable and must be accepted. The line “to be born without a gun” metaphorically conveys the idea that life itself is inherently vulnerable and fragile.


Love

And I loved everyone
and loved.

I did alone.

:: 07.03.2023 ::


Untitled


In moonlight’s tender hold, my demons dwell, Where voided thoughts find solace and reprieve. Each breath awakens the ocean’s ebb and swell, While purpose resounds, my soul begins to believe.

Within my core, the mist dissolves with grace, And thoughts unfurl beneath a healed cocoon. From distant realms, memories gently trace, Reason’s beacon shines within Genius’s boon.

Thou stirred me, tears cascaded with delight, I found my way amid the depths of lost. Could it be true? Such sweet awareness alights, Long yearned, selfishness paid its final cost.

Though sunlit grace eludes, a distant gleam, Your visage lingers, treasured in my sight. Flesh’s deceit, emotions’ tender stream, Chemicals and thoughts ignite with might.

A solemn truth embraced, its flame burns bright, Life’s delicate waltz, in fragility’s hold. Solace sought in both shadows and light, Chance’s tapestry woven, gracefully untold.


SILENT EYES AND FRAGILE HANDS

SOMEWHERE, I’ve wandered gladly, far from known,
No prior journey mirrors what I’ve found.

Your eyes, in silence, hold a realm unknown,
In fragile gestures, mysteries abound.

Your gentle gaze can swiftly set me free,
Though I, like closed fingers, sought to conceal.

You, like spring unfolding, unfetter me,
With artful touch, revealing love’s ideal.

Yet if your desire is to keep me closed,
My life shall close in beauty, swift and grand.

Like snowfall on a flower, heart composed,
Imagining a world covered in white sand.

No earthly sight can match your fragile might,
Whose textured essence captivates my soul,

Infusing death and eternity in flight,
With each breath, harmonizing as a whole.

I cannot fathom what it is in you,
That both shuts tight and opens wide the door.

But something deep within me grasps the view,
Your eyes’ voice resonates, surpassing more.

No entity, not raindrops in their fall,
Possesses hands as tender as your own.

In their small grasp, the world’s wonders enthrall,
A touch that whispers secrets yet unknown.

:: 06.29.2023 ::


TRANSIENT SPLENDOR — LOVE’S BATTLE WITH TIME

WHEN I ponder upon life’s transient bloom,
Perfection fleeting like a fragile wisp,
This grand stage merely a celestial room,
Where hidden stars their whispered influence slip.

As I witness mankind’s growth and decline,
By the same sky’s whims, both blessed and denied,
They revel in youth, its brilliance does shine,
Yet fade away, forgotten, their glory beside.

Thus, the notion of impermanence’s reign,
Reveals your youth’s opulence, profound and rare,
Where Time and Decay engage in a poignant strain,
Transforming bright days to nights, disrepair.

In this war with Time, for love’s sacred plea,
As he robs from you, I graft anew, eternally.

:: 06.26.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” is a remarkable piece that captures the essence of life’s fleeting beauty and the eternal struggle between love and the passage of time. The poem’s opening lines set a reflective and contemplative tone, as this poet ponders the evanescent nature of existence. The use of “transient bloom” and “fragile wisp” suggests the fragile and ephemeral quality of perfection.

The notion of life as a “grand stage” and the reference to “hidden stars” subtly alludes to the celestial forces that influence human destiny. The poet becomes a witness to the cycle of growth and decline experienced by humanity, their fate determined by the capricious whims of the sky. The juxtaposition of the revelry in youth’s brilliance and its eventual fading into oblivion evokes a sense of melancholy and the transient nature of human glory.

The concept of impermanence is central to the poem, as this poet acknowledges the reign of transience. The juxtaposition of “youth’s opulence, profound and rare” and the inevitable confrontation between Time and Decay creates a poignant tension. The transformation of bright days into nights of disrepair underscores the inevitable decay and loss experienced over time.

The poem’s conclusion presents a noble and impassioned declaration of love’s resilience against the relentless march of Time. The poet engages in a war with Time, vowing to rejuvenate and perpetuate love’s essence. The imagery of grafting anew symbolizes the eternal power of love to regenerate and transcend the limitations imposed by the passage of time.

Overall, “Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” showcases the mastery of expression by this poet, weaving together profound reflections on mortality, the fleeting nature of beauty, and the enduring strength of love. The poem’s skillful employment of imagery, rhyme, and depth of thought elevates it to the realm of timeless art.


REFLECTIONS OF TIME

lOoK iN thY glAss, AnD tElL tHe fAce thOu ViEwEs
noW iS thE tImE tHaT fAce ShOUlD fOrm AnOtHer;
wHOsE fREsh rEpaIr iF nOw tHou NOt rEnEwEs,
thOu dOst bEguIlE tHe WOrLD, UnblEss sOme mOthEr.

fOr WhErE is sHE sO fAir wHOsE UnEaR’d wOmb
dIsdAIns thE tILlaGe Of tHY hUsbANdRy?
Or wHO iS hE sO foNd wILl bE tHe tOmB
Of hIS sElf-lOvE, tO stOp pOstEritY?

tHoU ArT thY mOthEr’s glAsS, AnD sHE iN thEe
cAllS bAcK thE lOvElY aPrIl Of hEr prImE:
sO tHou tHrOugH wINdoWs Of tHinE aGe sHAll sEE
dEspItE Of WrInkLes tHIs tHy gOldEn tImE.

buT iF thOu lIvE, rEmEmbEr’d NOt tO bE,
dIe sIngLE, AnD tHiNe iMAgE dIes wITh thEe.

:: 06.26.2023 ::


Preemptive Remedies: Love’s Poisonous Paradox

Just like how we use strong spices to enhance our appetite,
Or take preventive measures to avoid unseen illnesses,
I deliberately indulged in bitter experiences
To counteract the overwhelming sweetness of your presence.

I became weary of happiness and strangely found satisfaction
In being unwell even before there was a genuine need.
This was my strategy in love, trying to preemptively handle
Potential problems that didn’t even exist, leading to self-assured faults.

But this approach only brought temporary relief,
As the abundance of goodness eventually succumbed to the negative.
From this, I’ve learned a valuable lesson:
Attempts to remedy the pain caused by your absence
Ultimately poison the one who became so ill from loving you.

:: 06.24.2023 ::


The Waning Sun

I dreamed a dream, yet was it purely so?

The sun, once fierce, had dimmed its vibrant glow,
And every star in ceaseless darkness roamed,
Aimless, lightless, from their pathways home.
The frigid earth, in distant shadows veiled,
Spun blindly in the abyss where the moon had paled.
Daybreak stirred, yet brought no dawn, no light,

And all mankind, consumed by despair’s chilling blight,
Forgot their passions in this bleak, forgotten fight.
All hearts turned ice, their warmth a forgotten trait,
Praying selfishly for dawn, to break the night’s cruel weight.

By fire’s meager light, they clung to fleeting life,
While thrones and kings burned bright, fueling their strife.
Cities crumbled, and the people in huddled throngs,
Gathered ’round their flickering fires, steeling against wrongs,
Those fortunate bathed in the volcanic blaze’s might,

For all the world was but a canvas of terror and spite.
Forests blazed, and hour by hour, the blackened night
Crept, casting all within its inky, endless blight.
Men’s faces, touched by uncertain firelight,

Wore an eerie, ethereal, phantom-like sight.

Some shed tears, others laughed with harrowing might.
And all around, the world crumbled to the dust.
Birds quaked, beasts shook with primal, raw fear,
And serpents hissed, but all in vain, as they drew near

To perish by those hands they once held dear.
War, paused briefly, rekindled its blood-soaked delight,
Feasting on the land, tallying each gruesome fight,

As all love fled from the earth’s barren, lifeless sight.
Famine ruled, and each living thing
Preyed upon the flesh of dying, the macabre’s sickening ring,
Until bones and flesh became but relics

Lost to time and the tale of future epochs.
Even dogs turned on masters in desperate plea,
Yet one loyal beast remained faithful, ever free,
Guarding his fallen lord, casting aside his needs,

Against the ghastly throng, his loyalty indeed,
Of beasts and men, until at last, he gave his life,
A pitiful, plaintive cry, loyal in the face of strife,
Licking the hand of his silent master, lost in strife.

The crowd thinned, and yet only two survived,
Two foes, who met beside an unhallowed shrine,
Gathering sacred relics for a profane sign,
Skeletal hands scraped feeble ashes, faces lined,

Exhaling their final breaths to craft a mocking light
That jeered them both, until they saw their shared plight,
And in their terror, they perished, nameless in the night,
For famine had stripped them to a ghastly sight.

The world was barren, void of life’s mark,
A wasteland of hard clay, absent tree or herb,
River, lake, or ocean, all silent and stark,
And rotting ships languished on a lifeless sea, unperturbed.

Masts crumbled, silently into the still sea bound,
And waves lay dormant, while tides slumbered in their graves.
The moon had faded, and winds lay unfettered, unbound,
As clouds perished, leaving nothing in their wake to save

The world from darkness, for she was the universe,
And in her shroud of night, no life left to converse.

:: 24.06.2023 ::


THE CITADEL OF CREATIVITY

AT times my Soul requires a lordly presence
perchance a house built by His hands to dwell
I pray, “Oh Lord, mend this heart and Spirit,
Dear Lord, to make all well.”

A shack built of Palo Santo trees our friends
of frankincense and myrrh is what I’d choose.
THAT He traverse illuminated fortifications,
Emerging swiftly from verdant foundations
Of the meadow, with its grassy embrace,
As the radiance He ascends with grace.

Thereon I raise it, firm as could be told,
On ledges, shelves, where rocks in glory roll.
My soul, in solitude, sought to dwell
Within His lofty palace’s sacred spell.

In chambers lofty, secrets I will keep,
Where winding stairs lead to heights so steep.
Alone, my spirit yearns for solitude’s embrace,
Within those walls, where tranquility finds its place.

Oh, His high palace, a realm for the soul,
Where dreams unfurl and passions take their toll.
In solitude’s sweet refuge, my heart finds rest,
Within those hallowed halls, by solitude blessed.

“And as the world doth spin and twirl,” I said,
“Thou, in seclusion, reign as a tranquil king,
Steadfast as Saturn, in his cosmic tread,
Resting upon his radiant, eternal ring.”

While the chaos of existence ceaseless flows,
Thou, in thy solitude, maintain thy throne,
A beacon of serenity, amidst life’s throes,
Unperturbed, undisturbed, and all alone.

Amidst the whirlwinds of the ever-turning sphere,
Thou art the calm within the ceaseless dance,
Like Saturn’s shadow, constant and clear,
Embracing stillness, in a celestial trance.

:: 06.22.2023 ::