I may love you, once love is all I have;
someday, with tears I'll wash away your grave:
till then I curse you since you died at last,
leaving me broke, alone, going nowhere fast.
Despite young Cupid, I won't bring you flowers;
or bathe you in dripping-wet, sparkling showers
of worship; or grant you the gold of chaise,
that gilts your summit-peaking thrones of maize.
Instead, I'll bring you a wreathe of barbed wires;
flame it! like a thousand nuclear pyres;
hang it upon your cruel member, like so!
And watch it burn, then cauterize, it slow.
Selfish Lover! You stole from me life's measure
of passion and unfathomable pleasure.
For that, therefore, I've the evil delight,
knowing your digit stands no more upright!
Categories:
gilts, allusion, betrayal, desire, extended
Form: Heroic Couplet
Paris was built gray, though in summer,
the trees and the umbrellas upload color.
The architecture spills over
into gay shades of silver and pewter.
Edinburgh is gray, gray are the plastic rainhats.
Damp kilts gamely fly a little color.
The stonework is granite gained,
and in late arriving Spring
color creeps up the hilly streets.
Shanghai flakes away in gray
a lacquered gray
that gilts the Huangpu river.
The skyscrapers are creamy
and blush in the sunlight.
The girls are silk flowers
in gray designer Nike’s.
Nowadays,
those who world-travel no more,
and those stuck in their own mud,
spin a grey alchemy into colorful words
which they then send
to places
worth writing to.
Categories:
gilts, poetry,
Form: Free verse
I see you ‘cross the vast expanse,
a love disguised in dreamy whirl
and clothed in raiment sun-spun gold
as wispy cirrus wraps your dance
the music of your sigh aswirl -
a breeze I feel but cannot hold,
but dance I will with memories
though for your arms I’ll ever pine,
I look to skies for bluest eyes
at times behind the tapestries
of cumulus both yours and mine –
the realm in which my angel flies.
Our love so like the lilac leaf
two halves that shared a center vein,
once green we were but now I fade
I’m torn in half without relief
the pain not washed away by rain —
this heart-shaped leaf afraid and frayed.
O touch me warm your slanting rays
how cold my soul you left behind,
to gaze through tears at beauty high
to wander through the haze of days
and know the planets misaligned —
when eyes of turquoise dyed the sky.
Alas, myself but cosmic dust
yet still, the stardust gilts the rust.
Categories:
gilts, beauty, death, grief, longing,
Form: Lyric
Gray are the lives that matter,
departed poems in a gray post-dated heaven;
‘silvery-gray,’ as the dead are said to say.
Paris was built gray; in summer,
the trees and the umbrellas upload color.
Yet only a few poems surfaced
they were too young to survive for long.
Edinburgh is gray, gray are the plastic rainhats.
Damp kilts gamely fly a little color
beneath a waterlogged pewter.
Words once penned
had to be tied together
so they would not sink.
Shanghai flakes its red and gold,
rises into cloud-scraping silver
that gilts the gray Huangpu river.
The girls are silk flowers
in designer Nike’s.
Gray are the wharfs and waterfronts.
Young silvery laughter turns poems
into porcelain teacups.
It is good to write
for the dead
(the dying have their own poets).
The deceased travel no more
but reside in a living-space
in God’s backlot, where all those
who do not fit into extant poetry
spin a grey alchemy
into a colorful language
which they then send
to places
no one ever writes about.
Categories:
gilts, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The Creche Painter
I am a pine, 4 feet tall;
My needles formed in green plastic;
Tiny lights and tiny gifts adorn me;
While I shade miniature figures of glass.
Glass – hand painted lovingly
By poor, worn fingers, with eyes squintly smiling;
The painter glowing, knowing
Her savior was born a babe,’
But one day touched her heart
And found Himself a home.
She hums a hymn as she prays to Him
That she will do justice to his face;
His glass blanket of soft blue
Will warm his dear body where he lay.
And she pats her brush to fluff white sheep
Baaing after their tan clad Shepherd; then
Adding colors bright to night traveling wise men,
She lastly gilts the halos of Mary and Joseph.
A glow now encompasses her table
She is one, serene in her work;
Her heart ever lives and paints in his stable.
Categories:
gilts, art, imagery,
Form: Free verse
Sacrifices I've made for loves ones
Long face, sad heart, painful days
Not even a clue if things would be like it is today
Bad choices which I am now paying it with my life
Loss in the games most of the times
Getting beat down and crumble
Bad luck seems to be chasing me all the times
It stole my smile and hide away my happiness
Every Time one appear it just wipe it off
No pity at all, no mercy
Nothing is fair
My heart cries all the times
Loved ones I've let down
Loved ones I've disappointed
It wasn't my intention
Silliness caused all this
Gilts I'm feeling inside out
Shame has covered my face
Try I have
Sometimes makes me wonder
Should I even bother
Bad thoughts invading my mind
I want to finish it once and for all
But when I think how much pain this will cause my loved ones
Only if they knew how depressed and sad I am
So for their sake...
...I tied my heart and carry on to carry my cross
Why, why?
from now on my life is useless
From now on I'm nothing
Categories:
gilts, cry, feelings, sad,
Form: Free verse