Long Dahlias Poems

Do we perform countless roles in our life?                         
we do…and we try to perform our best in every challenge that comes our way! 

   ...

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I so adored late hours. I was what you would call a night owl,
As fireflies seldom appear, until creamy moon is on the prowl.

I loved the quiet and peacefulness, and staring at a big moon,
Just...

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I belonged to a family of farmers, we had farmed for generations;
And we were true to our land, as blooms loyal to sweet sensations.

I knew the fierce satisfaction, only derived from working the land;
And sometimes...

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glanced at one last rose in my garden!           
                      ...

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The old rusty gate opens to 
                            ...

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I was a skillful, amiable nursery worker, cultivating blooms in a greenhouse,
Like feverish and fragrant blooms, often grown in redbird's green treehouse.

Hours were spent sowing seeds, adjusting conditions, and also and pruning,
As June full moon...

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Listen to the shifting winds 
carrying musical meteors,
there soars floating
letters between 
lyrical lines,
emanating runes
that reflect 
revolving rhymes
of faith within
and beyond.
For we are more than
just spectators or actors, 
in this theatrical life,
we are the assigned 
maestros...

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She's a rhapsodic tale of might
beyond falu dynamics sailing
through heartbreak's stormy
strikes and Lupus fight. 
In an exchange of blows with 
darkness, she steams in granite, 
kindness gleams in a tempo of battles.

A legend true, her...

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Exactly five years ago I lived in a city
that I named as the city of my struggles
quite an imposing brand you would say
but I found it appropriate in my mid-twenties.
I crawled against my inertia to...

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When tongue is silent, but muse is chanting - that's poetry.
When we write what the heart has been asking - that's poetry.

As dawn's hues glisten golden rays, in blue, bronze, orange skies,
musings mirror daydreams, so...

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In a world bejeweled 
with tainted trinkets,
and feigned flowers,
we follow the 
wailing waves below 
whirling wind,
like secluded silhouettes,
stranded on the
cusp of chaos,
unable to find the sparkling
streak of hyacinth hope-
between dusk and dawn. 

Perhaps there is...

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Tonight my ink is mute
and this quill rests in silence.
I’m searching for the perfumed poem
you’ve placed in my aching soul,
when I found a home 
within your aesthetic embrace,
whilst, the honeyed tip of your silvery voice
sketched...

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Spring

A refresh of rain, falling down on them all
Un-quenching each leaf with tilt refrain
Linden shaped blossoms in spring do install
Such beautiful heaven that no one can maim
 The burst of an orange, a tulip in...

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I find waking up a challenging, time consuming chore 
As I rather enjoy cavorting with kings, queens and wanton whores. 

I admit I’m drawn to royalty and “Riff-raff” now and then
Even Jesus used to hang...

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Floriography

Allamanda in April slowly open its trumpets around posts that look like 
Buttercups of honey for bees to dive in to replenish their striped bellies
Crocus's yellow stigmas that flavour our food are a blessing by...

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Devotion Poem, The Black Dahlias


This morning, for a time, you seemed
To have disappeared.  I called out to you
From my bed, but the words
Must have been consumed into mute syllables, 
For any answering voice, if...

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Feather to feather on a branch, this early winter morning,
Are they planning outings for the day or of grave dangers warning?

A predator comes swooping by, a red-tailed hawk in plunder.
As of one mind they fly...

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I wrote and read this poem at my grandmothers funeral.


While growing up, Toni; Steven and I
saw our Grandparents sacrifice,
so much of their own lives, without a fuss.
Along with our Mother, they did it just for...

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As the glistening jewels 
         of snow cascade like 
ballerinas pirouetting 
      to the crescendo of time, 
choreographed from porcelain 
 ...

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The horsemen have arrived     on their menacing 
              mares.         ...

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The old rusty gate CREAKS open,
                        I hear the blowing wind WHOOSH...

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When I am completely with myself, immersed in my reflections,
All the day's works are done - mundane and monotonous,
From far away in the past, an endearing picture emerges to me,
Surreal, yet distinctly visible! 
 
A...

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THE PRINCESS AND THE BEAUTIFUL ROAD

1.	The Princess:

A generation ago in the month of October
A first fruit gifted the world a Princess
She was nurtured with the vital ingredients
She grew into a damsel with great prowess
She grazed...

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THE PRINCESS AND THE BEAUTIFUL ROAD

1.	The Princess:

A generation ago in the month of October
A first fruit gifted the world a Princess
She was nurtured with the vital ingredients
She grew into a damsel with great prowess
She grazed...

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Ever touched a cactus?
When your grandma said, don't touch it
And your curious heart just couldn't listen
Then, your lil rosy hands set their fingers
On that green plant,
For a second, nothing happened
And your racing heart relaxed
But then...

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