Every time I sit, really just sit
I'm reminded that this
is enough
to let it go and just settle
without expectation
but alert awareness
here and now.
Enlightenment, liberation, grace, peace etc.
whatever we call it - the ideal we're aiming for -
isn't a matter of building or achieving
or a process of developing or becoming
it is instead what we naturally have
when we stop the building,
relax the grasping.
Yet it is easier said than done
especially when we're young
and our ability, our habit, our desire
to grasp is so strong.
And so we use that desire
homeopathically
to grasp and really hold
until exhaustion.
And then instead of holding such ideals
and concepts, and methods
so tightly
just let them go.
Or if we must
hold the concept like the reins of
a wind horse
gently, delicately between two fingers
ever ready to release
in this
complete moment.
And simply sit, just sit
and trust that that is enough.
(First published in my 2016 book, Little Pine)
I am an ivy vine.
Chasing away the dark, I carve out my own domain.
Then, by chance,
I meet the kindred beings of my roots.
Entangled with one another, we whisper
And complete a single kingdom.
Thus, we extend our territory.
The moment the scorching sun
Grow jealous of us,
We split apart.
We merely wanted the sunlight,
A brief rest in the shade
Where peace is desired.
We split apart.
We are no longer here.
The ivy vines
That once vowed to stay together,
Now wither away from one another.
The sun, exhaling a slow puff of smoke from a cigarette,
Watches on—
"At that moment of truth."
An age passes by,
And the ivy wall welcomes a friend once more.
Yet now,
Stepping into the world of the Fibonacci sequence,
Where leaf delicately wraps around another leaf.
The sun snuffs out its cigarette
And watches on—
"At the wonder of living things."
Yet,
"The sun is still seething."
leaves are changing
falling delicately to ground
kids play hide and seek
The
Nights
Fury
Lacerates
Into tortured flesh
Fiery hailstones slowly embed
Underneath wailing dermis, sorrowfully bruising
A misplaced poet, madness gradually invading like rabies cultivating
Within tainted bloodstreams, forgotten faces liquify into frothing depraved moonbeams, psychedelic hallucinations corrupting
Underworld’s wolves broke their gate, snarling with labored breath, piercing of dawn welcomes a funeral of fireflies, eclipsed by a broken brain being delicately dissected by elongated canines feasting ravenously
Staring off into
a distant realm
with the soul
of a yearning mermaid
and the heart
of an
eternal dreamer
is none other than
the whimsical
and magical Pisces
When they weep
for the world
and its horrors
the spirit realm
opens up
just for them
to hold them up
in loving grace
as they reflect
beneath
willow trees.
With their mutably
soft emotions
that run
so deep
sometimes
they might
swim away
whenever personally
dealing with
any emotional
or spiritual crises.
But
I always
imagine them
frolicking
in the water
with seaweed
in their hair
as they quietly
and delicately
slip away
from all these
unnecessary
human
responsibilities.
Note: This poem is part of my zodiac-themed poem collection. If you are a Pisces reading this, I hope I did your sign justice. Anyway, I'll be posting one for Aries very soon!
A pure white precious Opal
Met an Amethyst one day.
Amethyst loved the rainbow colours
That dazzled back her way.
A mesmerising iridescence
Met with purple calm.
Together they were beautiful,
Each with their own charm.
They trekked through many jewellery stores
But none of them would do.
They had bigger ambitions
Shared just between the two.
"We don't want to be cut down to size
For a pendant or a ring
Or become a decoration piece
Worn at a fancy gathering.
How about occasions rare and unique?
We'll bring awe to every town
When we are delicately placed, positioned
Well upon the royal crown!
We are not destined for greater things.
We are dreamers, that is all.
We call ourselves "The Midget Gems"
For the best things are small."
How absolutely delightful to watch the sun sets
And all around above the sea and the beach
Some famous painter swipe everywhere in gold.
Soon night will fall and all-around bars will light up.
We walk hand in hand along the jam-packed beach,
Until we stop at the farthest end of the sandy nook.
There soft waves grace our feet and the summer heat
Relieves us delicately as we admire the tranquil bay.
Time passes in tranquility disturbed by the occasional kiss.
Sailing boats sail the Amalfi Bay, flags flying the Italian flags.
Soon we depart to Antonio, famous seafood chef.
We will sample spaghetti, with fresh clams sautéed
In olive oil, garlic, white wine, and parsley. As for wine,
Only the best: "Fiorduva": considered the Amalfi crown jewel.
Satiated from our delicious food, we return to our hotel
Accompanied by the melodious songs animating
From the thrill of a hundred guitars.
teardrops are shape-shifters,
changing the instant
they slip free~
tiny pilgrims
already seeking
what they’ll become next.
spiders collect some of them,
drinking them delicately,
then spinning our sorrow
into silver webs
that glisten like forgiveness
in morning light.
some harden into marbles~
miniature worlds of color
swirled from emotion~
grief becoming something
you can hold
without breaking.
some rise as pixie dust
soft as breath,
bright as mischief~
the raw material
of small miracles.
some drift upward as moonbeams
their heaviness forgotten,
their ache turned silver
as they join the quiet
of the night sky.
some sew themselves into wings
effervescent, glowing~
the soft architecture
of angels
who know what it means
to fall and rise again.
and the rarest tears
vibrate together~
a trembling chorus
that becomes stardust,
then dreams,
then the gentle light
that guides us home.
Haunted by your gasps come eventide
the shimmer of vour shirt climbs
and rugged flesh of your torso
Traces those hips
as I fondle the crease from your spine
... to fine mold Brach's melody,
its mellow refrains accompanying
spatter of viscous honey ;
In a voice of sizzling quiet
that makes your arms part my sea ,
I inhabit wedded bliss in the mists of your eyes
and night's starglow melts before me:
This fragrance of total surrender
leads me to one , undefined moment
while I blossom delicately---
until we tremble as one
my nectar overflowing.
skilled blue jay at work
delicately weaves safe nest...
hidden acorns sprout
with wings on south wind
flies in azure sky with dreams…
empty nest crumbles
She moved through years the way dawn moves through lace,
slowly, delicately, and steady, never in a hurry.
Her hands learned patience from the cotton fields,
her voice from hymns that rose in dust and worry.
Longevity, she said, is earned by grace~
by choosing kindness even when it aches.
She taught me how to sit with what is real,
how sorrow ripens into something bright,
how time becomes a friend when we let go;
and in her final days she whispered soft and low,
life grows long only in those who learn to love its light.
My beautiful squishy heart, is squeezed by loving hands, that hold me very delicately.
My beautiful squishy heart, is full of longing and love for you. Everyday it cries out your name.
There are pearly white flowers
that delicately sway
mimicking tiny dancing butterflies
within the lacy shrubs sector
breeze blown away
blooms of heaven-sent nectar
an attraction, an invitation
A meadow brown butterfly swarms to
its empowering rich white petals
resting, buckled, uncoiled tongue, sucking
scaled wings clasped, it settles
stupefied by scents, it feeds
bewildered by sugary sucrose
ideal prey for a spider’s capture
in its ampullate silk orb web
sticky droplets woven to ensnare
Asclepias incarnata, magnets for pollinators
Ice-ballet swamp milkweeds
amongst igneous rocks banding from foliation
rocks formed from cooled magma
gravy tones, an obsidian correlation
where white flowers string
In a momentums gain,
a brown butterfly takes wing
If to love you, I must drown,
let me, Dear, not drown in water.
I wish to lie beside you
and drown in the profound -
of your chestnut chocolate eyes.
Say my name. Let if fall
silken from your lips.
I sink into a euphoric abyss
imagining your mouth
on the nape of my neck -
the whisper of it drifting delicately
until tenderly you tempt me with
your first soft kiss upon my lips.
Inundate me with every kiss.
There-after, I would gladly drown
in the deluge of
that tiramisu bliss.
Engulf me with lavender longings
that crescendo to a cardinal craving
with every inch of my skin
that the feathery fingers
of your beautiful hands
paint upon my quivering body
with crimson caresses.
Let me die slowly,
submerged in your ambrosial ardor,
melting with the luscious lava
of our love.
because I find them
on the trees
and decorating
this time of year,
when we need color
the most.
I pull and pluck
my favorites
and bring them home
delicately,
trying to keep them happy,
vibrant and perky
until I can stick them
in a tall glass of water
for me to smile at
and wonder over
tomorrow.
Ah, I love you Dogwood.
Little white hope
in a blossom.
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