Forward you wouldn’t move
When expected in the groove;
Sideways turning is all you do
To aid the destroyer and foe.
And fastest you skip and dash
When there’s no need to rush;
Fashioning a facsimile ever tense
When all you do is sit on the fence.
But no amount of feigned zeal
Shall those sharp wounds heal;
Mountains of duping balm unleash
And I’d still unmask all your fetish.
The guide with his cheesy hat, and colorful umbrella
encourages us to: gather 'round.
His anecdotal spiel is by rote. His shtick is fact-slim
and slick, but it’s also my current gestalt as I am dragged
unwillingly along by his CliffsNotes speech.
What catches my wandering eye
is that one of those ruined effigies
is a fair facsimile of myself.
He (a god/king of some minor something),
looks mildly disgusted, as if
a bothersome fly had landed on his crumbling nose.
My world-weary face reflects perfectly
his sour mien.
At last, I am processed meekly
back onto the tour bus, where predictably,
my fellow passengers are already
peering forward into a new fancifully imagined past
from an equally fanciful present.
Another conversation within myself.
Another riddle within the spectrum of possibility.
Wouldn't it be wise to search for someone in this
moment of desperation?
Fighting to wipe away these tears that wont keep.
Standing in the rains of despair.
The machine becomes obsolete.
How to find clarity?
Diluted fantasies?
I know somewhere my questions
cease transcending the mark that keeps them guessing.
A fallible facsimile that I'm doomed to repeat.
I only need speak it into existence,
with words that clip dirty wings.
So now no one walks alone.
Avoiding the idea that there is no escape.
Such a desperate moment. Actually, it's beautiful
in the way that I remember her smile.
Desperate when I recall the tears that ran down her face.
My head tilted to the side, trying to make sense of it all.
Trying not to feel at blame, while simultaneously trying to feel it all.
this moment cannot define me, us. I can only wade in this
pool of raw emotion for so long.
Trying to find the pain from scars that have long been healed.
Such an ironic perfection. A momentary lapse of judgement as I let myself slip
under the waterline
Spirals
Smiling so polite
to regurgitated lines that we recite
A serene sea
A tranquil facsimile
That's what you see
That's what I show
all so you don't know
In the mirror I see fire
I see hate
A self-portrait of fear?
Or just the demon getting near
I'm losing my control
Will the savage show?
Through spirals of malcontent
fighting the noise inside my head
I went for a quiet stroll
Never knowing where
My feet may go
Through streets of yesteryear
or into the darkness that I fear
I'm losing my control
Will the savage show?
Through spirals of malcontent
fighting the noise inside my head
When the knives come out
with a smile
Slicing through skin
Making me grin
I'm losing my control
Will the savage show?
Through spirals of malcontent
fighting the noise inside my head
In the mirror I see fire
I see hate
A self-portrait of fear?
Or just the demon
getting near
The guide with his cheesy hat, and colorful umbrella
encourages us to: gather 'round.
His anecdotal spiel is by rote. His shtick is fact-slim
and slick, but it’s also my current gestalt as I am dragged
unwillingly along by his CliffsNotes speech.
What catches my wandering eye is that this one ruined effigy
is a fair facsimile of myself. He (a god/king
of some minor something), looks mildly disgusted, as if
a bothersome fly had landed on his crumbling nose.
My world-weary face reflects perfectly that sour mien.
At last I am processed meekly back onto the tour bus,
where predictably, my fellow passengers are already
peering forward into a new fancifully imagined past
from an equally fanciful present.
My pet horsefly is so darn finicky
Dings every male in the vicinity
Only goes for rock stars
Who play a mean guitar
She will not accept a facsimile
The dazzling dawn lighted up the horizon of my heart,
spread the sunburst spectrum of luminous longing
on fervent garden blooming with love from the start,
swathed the facsimile of your floral face flushing.
You came flying in the secluded sky I had made mine,
the wind with whiff of romance never stopped to blow
with love from the hued horizon of sensual shine,
bracing buds unfurled in our hearts with astral glow.
A sparkling stream you flowed with fluidized grace,
cascaded in rocky valley turned jade, I carved for you.
The course to serene sea we pledged together to trace
to its placid depth, discover our melted hearts anew.
Our journey across the rugged terrain wasn’t easy,
lost in the dark night you found me, didn’t know how.
You became my second shadow, faithfully followed me
from the beginning of our time to the twilight hour now.
My mute introvert mind couldn’t express these words,
I write for you in vibrant verse, the last and the only one.
You’d return at dusk from my sky to nest like other birds,
see ‘you are always on my mind’ written on my feather lone.
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)
I am never without it..." E.E. Cummings
The sparkling dawn veneers my heart’s horizon with color,
spreads the sunburst tinges of my timeless yearning,
paints a golden garden blooming with luster of my love,
unfurls the facsimile of your astral floral face I adore.
The patina of radiant rose flushes your cherubic cheeks,
glitters with the grandeur of resplendent pearls of dew,
rhapsody ripples in the mesmeric meadow of my mind,
your heart becomes mine, in the ether of euphoria I float.
In vivacious vale of mind contoured by your charisma,
as I carve an ardent conduit of longing to reach you,
the fervent cloud of my craving melts in a torrent,
makes my love for you a cascading stream I swim.
Flowing with the current of your charismatic allure,
my possessed passion sails to the moonlit bay of bliss,
where your love weaves the lattice of stars in my sky,
in my heart the shine of enchanting sequins I preserve.
The dazzling dawn lights up my heart’s horizon,
spreads the sensuous spectrum of luring longing
on the gorgeous blooming garden flushed with my love,
swathing the facsimile of your florid face with charisma.
The patina of rose blushes in your sensuous lips,
glittering with the grandeur of charismatic petals.
Rhapsodic wind blows in mesmeric meadow of my heart,
as you become mine, I float beguiled in ether of euphoria.
The sculpted window of your hazel eyes closes
like the folded ornate wings of hypnotic butterfly.
Lattice of onyx eyelashes embroiders lissome lids of eyes,
harboring dulcet dreams in the fathomless sapphire sea.
The radiant cherubic cheeks are subtly caressed
by serenading zephyr suffused with fuchsia blush,
candescent in the amorous aurora of sunburst dusk sky.
Breathless, I etch in my halcyon heart the enticing image.
In my journey in the undulating terrain of life,
through the blizzard in the winter of despair,
and along the valley of flowers in the spring of delight,
by my side I always find you, the precious gift of God.
"The pure heart is a spotless mirror in which
images of infinite beauty are reflected"
In splendorous devout space of my pristine heart,
shimmering in the sanctified radiance of indigo night,
you gleam like seraphic sequins of the moondust,
I feel fascinated as I sense your sapphire sheen.
My heart morphs into mesmeric turquoise lake,
where the rose petals flying from my garden float
with reflection of the facsimile of your florid face,
my essence engraves the beauty of heavenly intuition.
My heart swathed by silver streaks of stardust sparkle,
pulsates at its crescendo with the concerto of ecstasy,
where the beauty of your enticing ballet I see imaged,
suffused with moonshine my mind mirrors your charm.
My heart becomes the replica of memory montage,
as the receptive perception pattern of divine love
configures the enticement image in kaleidoscopic collage,
the unsoiled mirror of my heart reflects your beauty.
“The suturing thread of the bejeweled hearts
may snap, the shadow of love remains ornamented”-
Quote by poet
The indelible image etched in my memory,
the tide of time couldn’t tow to the obscure sea. ,
In its shimmering shore on the satin sands of hue
I engraved ornate lattice with pearls of love for you.
The seraphic spectrum of sunburst sky’s lilting lure
contoured the radiant facsimile of my desire demure.
Our harmonic hearts took the entwined shape,
ornamented by sublime moonshine of longing drape.
I couldn't free your bejeweled ivory hands to depart
as I felt exhilaration fervently flicker in my heart,
flashing on your face like the luster of twilight,
I was consumed in the flare of craving delight.
You’re gone where your destiny has taken you,
your shadow lingers in my yearning threshold I view.
I sense your enduring aura that won’t wane soon,
embellish you with argentine glow of amorous moon.
I won’t forget that night howsoever I try abandoned,
your sequined shadow in stardust I won’t see unadorned.
Sprawling aspiration
effervescent incandescence
spreads psychic plasma
of primal spectrum
painting passion
on the silken sky
the configured
fascinated facsimile
of mental panorama
suffused with chromatic
sublime sensitivity
of exuberant ecstasy
blooming in
seraphic color blast
of floral spring
Parched pieces
draped by distress dust
of cinnamon ground
heart desiccates
to the core
auburn anguish
pervading passive
creeps craftily
in the wilted veins
of the fallen leaves
fragile essence
rustles restive
with emerald tune
of serenading sanguinity
Emotive eyes weep
concealed tears
in torment torrent
fill the cauldron
of pent up pathos
forlorn life’s
desolate distillate
designs crystalline
verdance shining
in the jade thicket
on the eroded banks
of awareness
as symphonic cadence
of fervent zephyr
drifting with sonata
of fleeting fervor
from yonder plateau
of yearning
pulsates timeless
with waves of rhapsody
in the bay of bliss
glides with the melody
of harmonic heart
with the ripples
of lilac lagoon
The indelible image etched
on memory membrane
time couldn’t tow
to the obscurity ocean
in its shimmering shore
on the satin sands
I engraved entranced
the lattice of my love
the sensuous spectrum
of sunburst sky scene
shaped the facsimile of fervor.
Harmonious hearts
took entwined entity
sutured by sublime strand
weaving the infinity
I couldn't release
your alluring hands
my exhilaration candle
fervently flickered
flashed on your face
lasting luster
in twilight aura
I was flushed
with the flare
of craving delight.
You were gone
walking weary
the providence path
your engraved shadow
lingered lively
in timeless domain
my longing threshold
perceived permeated
the emotive endurance
of your yearning
the argentine glow
of the amorous moon
unforgettable adornment
of the bejeweled night
with sequined stardust
I embellished
your shadow in
eternity…
Mind marooned
in complex convolution,
obscurity singular
in each living entity.
The psyche silhouettes
unique elements,
to alien attributes
they won’t adhere.
The reserved recess
hides the riddles,
sub-conscious search
completely clueless.
Probing entreaty,
the preserve persuasive
of outside world,
can’t contrive
the forsaken mind.
A pining prisoner
of own making,
a crumpled cocoon in
introvert isolation,
I see subsided
all the faces fading
faceless in oblivion,
me wedged secluded
in egoistic web
of self-adoration.
My morphed mind
turns Nemesis,
makes a mirror
of mirage for me.
Gazing gripped,
lurching to the oasis,
it’s only me
I always see,
reflected radiant
from cobalt cauldron
of the luring lake,
confined content.
In self-veneration,
a pretentious perspicacity
of fake facsimile,
I notice Narcissus
in me lonely lurk.
A secret switching
over to obsession,
specter senseless
lies latent,
languishes listless
beneath brazen layers
of arctic acuity
in the dark,
frozen…
Practice the pause. When in doubt, pause. When angry, pause. When tired, pause. When stressed, pause. And when you pause, pray.” —Toby Mac
~~~~~~~~
A movie runs on.
In a high tower
a facsimile of your open eyes
burns through a celluloid strip of film.
A pinpoint of heat
made a hole -
It burned through perception.
A sentient hand reaches out
from mindfulness,
it punches a large button
set at the back of a seat
in the back row
of a movie theater.
The running-on - stops.
You sit back a spell,
re-light a lamp
you had kicked over
in your hurry to keep ahead.
A spool of cooling reality
unwinds,
forming a jumbled heap
on a cutting room floor.
Once again you recall,
that paused living-space,
that prayer room
you could have entered
at anytime.
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