Best Sinking Poems

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in,...

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“Peace I leave with you
           my peace I give you
     ...

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Partial Paper
 -A poet in heat-

Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion...

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If you could hear echoes from my heart now,               
Would you...

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Oh beloved,
I'm like Rumi without Shams.
A shivering summer soul,
secretly stalked by wild white winter wolves.
A chiffon child chiselling chimerical calligraphy,
cursed with invisible ink, silent in...

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We Rulers Of This Earth

Homo-Sapiens we call ourselves, rulers of this Earth,
   Intelligent and civilized, but what is all this worth?

We're working hard...

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To Dreamland on Sunset's Lullaby

Gracefully the young crescent moon
ascends the sky like a cosmic tune;
replacing the drowsy pale yellow sun
sinking on a golden glowing horizon.

To...

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The waves calm me down as I sit and wonder
For my love is lost in the stormy scurrilous sea
And I know my hapless heart to...

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Seared upon my soul for ever more
That break of dawn upon a summer morn
As I made my way along that rocky shore
Strewn with remnants from...

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Mirabelle orb ascends,
under clementine and pomegranate skies.

Absent,
in delight of daylight.
Eyes set adrift in dawning daydreams.

Calm heart is an oceanic concerto,
flowing along sapphire tones.
Deep breaths walk...

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POTD 29 Jan 2020

A balmy fragrance of cedar and lime lingers
A will o wisp floats by gathering dew
A mark on the page of another man’s...

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I stand on the edge of your ocean, ready to dive in
Wanting to discover the depths of you
I have looked at the surface of you
Beautiful...

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My mind is a puzzle of cryptic metaphors.
whilst searching for my sanity,
I've become my own worst enemy.
In this cauldron of despair,
time is like sand in...

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I'm an ashen dove, 
fading in zephyr 
of wine valleys, 
saturating in fog 
upon enchanting hills, 
draped in 
grape-green silk, 
where fantasies of forest, 
sprout...

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Yes, that is the role of the Teacher, as Shams was to
me – showing one ‘who they are’, so they can stop
bleating, crying at night,...

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