can only start near end
remember let touch send
text tow wind knot unkind
several almost always blind
sans sanctions dubious doubt
say mean like when what shout
carries sharing showing how
onward fast firm never bow
talking points pants unknown
leaves most places all alone
random rules ruin rights rot
cools unnerves calms hits spot
late early loose worm kills bird
silent talks sounds rarely heard
wonder if of out with not who
plays things spams let capture you
good spear into through core
trembles minds hearts bodies more
remembers few less censored
fragments fails points scored
~
It whispers to me.....
its mouth not seen but I know it's there.
Somewhere hidden in its black depths,
a maw with menacing teeth, does bare.
It promises to take away the pain,
to release the inner turmoil.
To wrap me in its soothing embrace,
deep within, where its current doth boil.
This water that cools my feet,
burns to devour me whole.
Comforts me with its melodic tune,
attempting to take my soul.
The whispers crescendo to wails,
the water, now, crying out to me.
Reaching into my psyche,
luring me in with its plea.
As I enter, the water grabs-
no solace to be found.
The wails turn into laughter....
another damaged vessel, drowned.
~
Reprise
~
Floating in the emptiness....
skin wrinkles from the cold.
Nothing to grasp in the darkness.
Nothing for me to hold.
The water didn't keep its promise.
The pain didn't go away.
Slipping into the abyss,
leading me astray.
Wickedness surrounds me,
oh my, what have I done?
Mistakes, I've made aplenty
but this is the most grievous one.
If the water makes promises to you,
please cover your ears and flee.
There is no comfort here....
only regret and misery.
~
BLT
*Swim at your own risk.
Sometimes, when we hurl
angry words—
ancient stones thrown by indifference,
lodging in the ears of our children.
Witnessing horror twist itself into child’s play.
A stone’s throw—killed our empathy.
Anger knows its enemy:
sitting next to,
sitting opposite of,
never with.
It sits a stone’s throw away.
Rising from the ashes of fear—
Vapours of flesh smoulder
as blooded lava flows.
Cools—
our scarred magma to a crusted creed.
The stitched social fabric
binds us—
its loud colour blinds us.
Worn by both—
the right
and left sleeve.
United buttons,
reconcile for peace.
Unironed—full of wrinkles.
We tear further apart
the closer we come,
repelling—mirroring
the same magnetic face.
We read our compass,
in a bipolar place;
wondering how,
we’ve lost our way.
Believing everything
we’ve been taught,
until we die—
Realizing—
too late,
it’s all been a lie.
Yawning sun, waves the chaos for peace,
For a while, sorrow sleeps and curses cease.
Drowning sky guides the birds ,way for home,
Blushing clouds build the delusional dome.
traffic rests for breath,
A moment for us ,no fear and death.
Echoes of silence in air speak,
All tiny souls roam and peek.
Nature admires their work and sings,
A song of love and wisdom swings.
The evening wind cools the desert fire,
All feel grateful – in spite of their desire.
Burden and scars sleep beneath the evening breeze,
All hearts find comfort, all minds feel ease.
Spring — Passion
Kintsugi dawn—
white plum scents night air
tea rises in stillness.
Cranes cross pale sky;
child laughter drifts on moss.
A garden remembers.
Summer — Vocation
Tatami breathes—
cicada shells cling
reborn softly.
Koi flicker below
ripples fade in quiet hands.
Evening thunder calls—
incense drifts
forms bow.
Autumn — Mission
Fox lanterns kindle
shoji float through silver mist—
ancestral spirits stir.
Stray dog nestles
by the gate;
even strays seek warmth.
Tea vapor
recalls morning.
Winter — Profession
Snow settles
on stone lanterns
pine needles in palm.
Cold brushes fingertips.
Crane arcs slowly—
silhouette lingers on old walls.
Work kneaded
with laughter;
fire clothes darkness.
Completion — All Seasons as One
Sakura scatter—
petals dance
mirror tea vapor.
Breath holds the garden.
Circle closes
opens anew.
Tea cools,
reflects sky—
time folds gently.
The Earth is a living entity
A living sphere
spinning and gyro scoping
Forever generating and vibrating
Living Energy
With a swirling nickel/iron liquid core
that reaches out thru the Cosmos like a cosmic door
Forever protecting the floor of Flaura
The stuff that dreams are made of everyone
Hot magma blood that cools into a crust
Grounded by gravity’s leash from the sun
An atmosphere of gases that gives
All life breath
The Earth, she breathes
just like the best of us
Living here
- Blessed Be
(the lungs like fresh air)
It must have been made
and rejected
in times grinding gears –
a knobby irregularity,
a leftover of smelt and dross.
This is all there is
a gobbet of oven clinker,
but behind it I sense cracked teeth,
soot seared across burnt eyeglasses,
blackened bones,
for after the gas came the flames.
Here it is,
a fragment long convulsed
from its own incineration,
an irregular rake-off, smithereens
dragged across a blind stone floor.
This tittle of slag once had to fit something
the rough rim of an iron door perhaps
behind which an old furnace
still cools in faraway minds.
A ferrous chip chiseled from a gulag,
or a souvenir from an SS campfire meet.
There is always something left
after the unthinkable,
always some spicule of irregularity,
detritus to explain or confound
as we toss it back into the fire again.
Our words seethe like fire;
Crackling as we watch them blaze
Into a burning smoke of anger
Till the quiet of midnight cools,
Extinguishing what we had fed.
Bite Size Contest
The fury of a thunderstorm
Should not be a surprise,
For prior to its sudden booms
Come dark-as-nighttime skies.
The wind whips up, the branches sway,
The air cools down a bit
And lightning zigzags right before
The thunder seems to hit.
Then with a crash the storm attacks,
The booming close and loud,
Which causes shrieks and running feet,
Dispersing any crowd.
Umbrellas open, wipers snap
And car alarms might beep
While anyone caught napping
Will be jostled from that sleep.
Most typically, the storm won’t last
As rumbles move away
And rain lets up to save itself
For yet another day.
Quite often, then, the sun appears
And brings with it the heat,
The only proof of the event
The puddles on the street.
Whisper of the Elements
In the stillness of the twilight hour,
A witch’s breath, a whispered power.
Elements old, in circle bound,
Their ancient secrets swirl around.
Earth, the roots and bones of stone,
She holds the weight of worlds alone.
With soil rich and fertile loam,
A cradle for all life to roam.
Air, a sigh, a tempest’s flight,
She dances soft, she rages bright.
Through forest glade, through mountain spire,
A breath of life, a witch’s choir.
Fire, a spark, a blaze of might,
A guiding torch in blackest night.
A flame to warm, to burn, to forge,
The witch’s will, the spell’s bright gorge.
Water, winding, deep and clear,
A mirror to the heart’s own fear.
She carves the stone, she cools the flame,
A river wild that none can tame.
So in the circle, here we stand,
With moonlit sky and ancient land.
The witch’s chant, the earth’s own hum
By these four powers, all things become.
I assume one day,
Everything will be calm down
Surprising wind will come from the East
Even if I spell wrongly,
I will write, "I am fine."
To make you feel assured
Life is full of surprises
I feel less demeanor when I meant it
As introvert as I am, I silently count danger
Everything is calculated in my mind
Not to offend someone is my inner fear
Less as I expect it doesn't go always
By observing one's behavior I feel less
Insensitive, a little open now like kettle
Comes out hazy sound when full hot
Decent and calm when it cools off
As usual the days passed I have learned
Many things in life goes to maturity
Never neglect the small details in life
Makes me more cautious and less apprehensive
Life has more to go, too many lapses to take
Before I have that crown of victory with me
Here in this world and the world here after.
You, strong sun that soars, crumbles down tonight,
A stormy day arrives at your bright face,
The sunny rays are nowhere in my sight,
A gust of silent air consumes the space.
No light shines in this room. Forever drain,
The world cools when the sun is blocked by guise,
Your clouds cry and pour and enshroud with rain,
I will continue life drenched in your cries.
I'll never run away when you're in tears,
My orbit will revolve for you, my sun,
Your presence still remains in all the fears,
My light, you will forever be the one.
I'll wait till time can tell when you might shine,
You’re still the sun when you are not divine.
My mind is a wasteland, a place only poison and death thrive.
My mind is a wasteland, where not even hope is alive.
I’m not safe from my thoughts, these venomous snakes that haunt my memories.
My skin crawls from pollution, from anxiety and doubt.
All I want is to get out.
Get out of my head, my crawling skin, the burning feelings of depression.
Its a wasteland, there’s ashes instead of sand.
Its a wasteland, the water burns and the fire cools.
At least it feels like it does. Maybe it doesn’t, maybe I’m a fool.
pretty park on the edge
in my car hoping for change
loose chump change dice game
many birds feeling free
am so wishing i could be
washed up memories
dreams so long deferred
plasma flashbacks far removed
saline cools me down
welcome mat real world
reality checks bouncing
still missing baskets
back to pretty park
a time machine in my mind
another notch carved
volcanic
activity
liquid
magma
cools
contracts
chisels
rasps
measured
patterns
settling to
hexagonal
colonnade
morphed
entablature
unique
marvel
unsigned
sculpture
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