Best Turmeric Poems

In the moorlands of desires, 
I've forever sung choruses of
fertile faith, amidst the flock 
of bleeding birds, sprinkling
heartbeats on lush olive herbs, 
In the dream of retracing their 
scintillating season of beachy spring. 
'Hope' had always been a
pearlescent paste of turmeric 
temperance for the harp...

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As the final glimpse 
of the sun leads into 
an everlasting spectacle 
of twinkling dreams, 
peeking through 
    turmeric traces 
of an amber aftermath, 
I listen to the 
nesting nightingales
    croon nostalgic lullabies, 
and search for a 
celestial ray...

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When the sunset queen sings,
jinxed Jasmines wither, and~
primrose willows quiver,
unfurling clemency 
in ivory sliver.

When the sunset queen sings,
wailing waves pause in awe
sea-fairies waltz through haze,
twirling to tuscan tunes,
flipping turmeric rays.

When the sunset queen sings,
nightingales sigh and trill,
as moon pearls soar above
cinnamon glazed ripples,
ferrying psalms of...

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In sepia foliage's of falsified fantasies,
cursed by haunting hornets stinging 
with honeyed painted lies,
her mind was like a matriarch of metaphors.

An inflorescent seed buried in darkness,
with a somnolent spirit rustling in onyx nostalgia.
Too afraid to spread her fragile feathers, 
she lay upon a bed of...

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When I whirl as wind, 
unwavering ~
 surfing on 
watercolor wings 
of simmering seasons, 
 which flicker
 and fly through me, 
filtering my faults
with a wrinkled fantasy, 
I waltz whistling ~
in their whispering waves, 
where the lachrymal leaf 
of loneliness lulls me
to a lavender sanctuary...

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 her untamable sakura spirit
glows like sweet scents
of petrichor peace,
perfumed in jasmine water,
whilst there’s no path
to golden rays of sunlight,
she shines for the elite vines
trailing through silver 
    gates of heaven.

and when the sky is a sea
of lilac lanterns, 
  ...

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When soft colors of  
the amethyst twilight,  
dance amongst shadows~
swirling through forlorn forests,  
I count sparkling syllables of  
pirouetting peridots,  
looking for metered refrains  
from the emerald empyrean,  
while wondering,  
what am I but a  
speck...

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My Love,

The sky reminded me of you today.
The sun set in lilac with a teasing tinge of pink—
just the way you used to love it.

On other days, the sky is yellow and murky,
reeking of sulphur and carbon;
I feel suffocated in grandma’s old penthouse
(I sold off...

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A mystic rose smile that belonged to my mother this is what I recall   

My easel and I resting in the spirit,  by the grandeur of a morning tilt.  As the  
Yellow sunrays streak across the canvass, I think of...

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                        Leaves of Lilith, fall like butterflies 
            as I slither...

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I'm torn in poetry ~ 
like a fractured syllable 
scattered across 
altars of glistening gold, 
mirroring the maskless faces 
of those, who once 
sold their sanctity for sins. 
Perhaps, there's a
cursed moonlight, 
to which I'll tie 
the champagne mists
of my last summer roses 
and roar...

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Back in Iowa, where my mother and several of my siblings still live,
my big family gets together for a reunion at Mom’s apartment,
using the reception area of the little place where she now resides.
Mom cooks the main dishes, the turkey, gravy and potatoes
while the others...

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When the twinkling trust
of tamarind tides, 
cascades in catastrophes
and turmeric-tinted tulips
become a treason for sun temples ~
I slowly drift like a diluted drop,
ruffled in the consciousness of Nyx,
where the nefarious nightglows
unfurl a midnight rose-glazed moon, 
resting in thunders of the third eye
and our spirits are...

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She sent back the last order, as well.
This time, she shook her head 
like a dog in the rain,
like a posh-frock woman 
having "a spell."
The brimming broth, she said,
had a bitterness that swelled 
and stung between her cheeks,
and across her tongue.
It steamed with the scent
of...

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T i me
I’m a mistress to your fleeting cycles,
constantly constricting,
russet-deep pupils
that see the maroon rain~
veiled in honey and turmeric flames…
Today I lift my hands
in s i l e n c e
to spin pearls of prayers
from
strings of patience...
for I am my Sun’s~
your maternal daffodil
singing songs of...

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