Lips, you pass so close
From a kiss to words
Corollas of knowledge
And of pleasure
What are you doing here
On this deserted face
Kneaded by a bare silence
Without a halo
Aren’t you afraid
Of being late bloomers
Of crossing your borders
Into an unreal land?
Yet your edges tremble
And the skin begins to see
As if the ancient spring
Reopened the evening
To see the day
Is to open the sky
To see the day
Is all of infinity
To see the day
Is to leave the shadow
And the primal water
Takes us back
(To see the day)
(It is to open the sky)
There, the eyes gather
A timeless light
It slides on the cheek
Like fruit on the sand
And this chastity
Is not coldness
It is a hand of a spring
At the edge of the face
Aren’t you afraid
Of being late bloomers
Of crossing your borders
Into an unreal land?
Yet your edges tremble
And the skin begins to see
As if the ancient spring
Reopened the evening
To see the day
Is to open the sky
To see the day
Is all of infinity
To see the day
Is to leave the shadow
Letter 'K'
Kaleidoscopic aura kindles the kunstvoll dawn sky,
God's kingly artistry kneaded in the lapis lazuli,
Kissed by the sun, kinesthetic earth feels klutzy,
Light rays knock gently on day's door,
This knockout scene would make anyone kneel
Or keel over in kitschy joy ~
A keen reminder of the glory of the Kingdom to come.
WOVEN IN THREADS OF LOVE’S FORGIVENESS
Time-tested love, bruised and battered,
Lay like littered crystals, sprawled out
Over the steel-plated stage of life—
Dismembered and crumbled—
Like stale cookies, whose particles have lost
Their electromagnetic-like attractiveness:-
Ingredients of envious spices,
Try to inhibit any and all adhesiveness,
That tough, threading love has kneaded:-
However, seaming forgiveness, knits
And weaves supreme love together:
Cocooning new soaring beginnings.
Indeed, the most fragile butterfly wings—
Soaring in monarch majesty—have conquered
Time-tested winds of trials and tribulations:-
Yes, “...to err is human…and to forgive, divine.”
May the weaving threads of supreme love, forever
Twine and bind, these blessed hearts of yours and mine:-
I shall write you a poetry,
Of milk and honey -
From the heart of love
I'll confess my soul's melody.
A nameless souls' symmetry,
Two heart bound in hue,
''Love," a name whispers by all,
Kneaded within my view.
I'll not defy, but nurture thee,
Like a boundless sea;
Love ripples deep through me -
I couldn't lift my eyes,
From your gentle ecstasy.
Where meadows bloom in nectar's grace,
Bees shall buzz and softly trace;
And my love shall savour still,
The finest joy of mortal will.
A love that cares within
A care that shall be given -
No boundaries shall it hold,
No envy shall it grow.
Wings upon which emotions fly;
My words shaped into wells of water.
Shells of beaches from my past
Memories held, then laid to bed,
As trees felled or stones cast.
Words, raindrops, snowflakes, air:
Stirred and kneaded here or there.
Words unheard, like air unbreathed,
Unbleached and bare; Unheard with care.
Just words...
What could be more useless now.
Last night we danced in sweet romance,
we burned like the midnight sun.
Your wanton kiss was utter bliss,
our hearts fused, then beat as one.
By candle-light I held you tight,
lust played our favorite song.
Our bodies moved, sizzled and grooved,
seduction's magic so strong.
Our two minds raced as my lips traced
the smooth contours of your skin.
Fingers kneaded as eyes pleaded
for hunger to glide on in.
Burning, shining, redefining
the power that pleasure holds.
Deep and slow, two bodies aglow,
our rhythm was liquid gold.
Desire ached as our flesh baked
and ecstatic rivers flowed.
Our bodies screamed and our eyes gleamed,
for delirium... We rode!
The love you gave, the love I crave
reached inside and made me whole.
Each sated breath, each little death
hurt so much it healed my soul.
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.
She kneaded and rolled it past midnight
precisely added egg-white
Yet she still didn’t get the recipe right
‘til she mixed love in with daylight
Pancakes are so delicious
with maple syrup.
it's made of all- purpose flour,
kneaded into paste,
with baking powder.
it's fluffy.
yum!
Dough kneaded and leavened,
Designed in circular shape.
Dent in the middle
Deep fried or baked
Dipped in sugar syrup and glazed.
Dutch immigrants’ popular sweet.
Delectable snack, favorite of kids.
Brother stream was my closest friend.
He sifted from my slag a few shining gems.
Putting the shine back into my heart
after our dear mother departed.
Brother stream wove my burlap raggedness.
into something resembling his down gentleness.
He guided me away from the devil's black charade.
Lifting me just above life's burning cascade.
Brother stream who once took a beating for me
The truth is the truth, so now we all can just let it be.
Brother stream gently kneaded his signets to swans.
A beckon of light, whether it be dusk or dawn.
And when he was betrayed by life's jagged sin.
The signets that he'd raised flew back unto him.
Brother Stream's heart was speckled with gold.
My brother Stream, whom the lord, called back home.
jiggling juggernaut jockeyed judo
katie’s Korean kitties killed with kudos
lively llamas listened, learning Latin
Mischievous miscreants misused satin
Needless nimble noodles kneaded themselves
Opulence and opals were seen in land of elves
Paralyzed parlor poodles paraded past purple pails
Quarrelsome queens quickly collected quick quails
Deep in the briars of doubt
within the muck of the mind
dust devils like to tease
weaving petals to the lye.
Knead the mind with prayer and reflection.
No need to introduce outside deflections.
God placed gold leaf atop gray canyons.
A hands-on workshop was such fun
In Montreal today.
We made real bagels, all from scratch
In a yummy, local way.
Our teacher made us feel at home
(Makes sense - he lives there, too!)
As, patiently, he demonstrated
What we had to do.
Eleven of us washed our hands
And tied our aprons on,
Then measured the ingredients
And mixed ‘til they were gone.
We kneaded and then shaped the dough
With Will to supervise,
Then watched them boil and added seeds
And, much to our surprise,
We made delicious bagels
And our group felt really proud!
As a born and bred New Yorker,
I was thrilled and also wowed.
If you visit Montreal, make sure
You find Will’s class and go
For a wonderful experience
That will delight you so!
When I failed to pass
Out from Communism class
It was my poor Marx.
Which dinosaur has
A rich vocab to help us?
Why, a thesaurus.
Spread across all world,
A shepherd-less Indian herd,
Reservations unheard.
I badly needed
That job as bakery aid,
And dough was kneaded.
In your middle-age,
O worry not of old age,
Turn over the page.
__________________________
Haiku |02.03.2024| humour
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