Long Synchronicity Poems
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Scented Leaves
A garden lost, in the footsteps of time,
Beckons from a garden of scented leaves
Remembering perfection in the cool of the evening,
Memories awaking long dormant memories
Now redeemed by scars;
A path that ends in gates reopened
To walk beneath an arch of aromatic wonder
Re-birthing wisps of fragrant balm
Lost in time, long past the birth of light,
To walk in solitude past temptation of fallen brittle leaves
Unscented;
With each day now an echoing paean raised
In one voice without discord
Of roars or snarling fears grabbing space
Or saving daylight demanding domination;
Clarity in naked transparency –
No need to cover original beauty –
Night at one with the daystar
While sun and moon and stars hold hands
To step in neat circles within the celestial perfume of praise
Like a garland of scented leaves woven in this sacred space;
Where summer, fall, winter, spring
Revolve in mystery with not one
Day or drop of rain out of place –
No intrusion of wilting heat or blustering cold,
Work or wrenching pain,
Intrude upon the oneness by wilting petals
That flower above the arbor of scented foliage;
No separation from the original plan,
The hand that drew up from the chaos
This design in the rich bouquet of creation
Turns back to be entwined again
In the fragrance of a perfect smile floating like flora before eyes reopened -
A signature written in a perfumed garden -
One heartbeat beating in perfect synchronicity
With hearts reunited in the evening breeze
Not lost like a snowflake on a summer highway –
A teardrop in sea of sand –
Eternal covenant,
Love and passion waking in one body -
Intimacy among the scented leaves.
Date – November 14, 2019
Contest – Scented Leaves
Sponsor – Kim Rodrigues
Purple Chakra
She wears in dreams and enchantment our mad hatter’s hat
cloaked in violet desire and so called co-incidence of purple
Just a few blossoms Jacaranda from the doom of rock bottom
I spelt the word ‘love’ with the petals in between roses and colour
the wannabe hippie of times long gone by on a path yet unknown
A rehab from drink and from madness confinement in mind
body soul removed from temptation inpatient impatient solitude
‘So strange this beautiful woman here before your arrival she
formed a small purple heart on the manicured lawn. You would
like her she’s Tanya Michelle bright and emotional calls herself Tai.’
A visitor truly unknown pitched a few days after un-thought of no
sense no connection no intention no blossoms of meaning or reason
a fairy tale story frog princess prince sensation out of the purple
‘You must be Tai I am Kai I suppose we have something in common’
a beeline from nowhere how I knew I not know may the Universe tell
synchronicity spelt out from the winds gravitation pulled in together
Now we dance to the moon and swim with the tides scent the fragrance
sing to the tune of fortuitous fortune paint purple mad sanity in words
rainbows melting pastels poetry in motion poet trees’ hot temperance
Just one word had been spelt one heart in the garden of freedom
two seeds released rising high in the air in miraculous sparkling
waters dust from the ashes volcano erupted meaningful madness
We travel together ever since wear hats purple hair flowers dreams and
infusion have been flying ‘Taikaiwe’ on infinite eternity from that
momentous moment enshrined in the blossoms
Written on the 21st June 2016-06-20
From Kai Michael to Tai Michelle
For contest: Something Seemingly Insignificant
And Unexpected Changed My Life
Written: January 14, 2026, for contest sponsored by Karen Jones
************
In this tristful age of waning meaning,
acrid winds rise from the world’s declivity,
We listen for a softer timbre,
a tone like cowslips glowing gold in dusk’s blue hush—
and still, peace hums beneath the din
The air grows redolent with rancor,
with hostile murmurs and contentious tongues,
Yet somewhere a winsome, limpid whisper
threads through the static like warm violet light—
and still, peace hums beneath the din
We wander through conundrum and quixotry,
our thoughts a woolgathering drift of smoke,
our hearts a chatoyant flicker
caught between shadow and ember—
and still, peace hums beneath the din
Two stanzas mirror each other now:
one for the mind, one for the marrow—
mind seeking cogent clarity,
marrow craving gentler gravity—
and still, peace hums beneath the din
We meet in the middle,
where synchronicity feels like scent-turned-sound,
like a golden chord glowing on the tongue,
like touch that tastes of morning rain—
and still, peace hums beneath the din
Peace is no barbaric banquet,
no officious promise wrapped in parody;
It is an evanescent shimmer yonder,
a quiet halcyon pulse beneath our stolid fear—
and still, peace hums beneath the din
And when the night grows thick as ink,
when even hope feels fake and thin,
peace rises—slow, buttery, bright—
a lantern of molten saffron
held in the trembling hands of dawn.
And still, peace hums beneath the din.
Holograms and hieroglyphs
The whole weighs heavily
touched caressed lightly
brushed on feather canvass
granite marble marvellous papyrus
innocence rejuvenated
partial and impartial
Chiselled in and out
of comprehension angled
layered facets facts
subjective trueness
ciphered and deciphered
Snow flakes teardrops
ink on paper hailing crystals
pastel rainbows thunderbolts
and blind pitch black darkness
tell the story weathered lives
Freedom torrent lightening
anxious reproduction
wholesome holes concatenations
metaphoric mosaic translates
picturesque ‘holos’ trying to emerge
Vertex vortex on horizons
told untold forgotten
and beyond beheld
diagonal a-synchronicity
discovered spoken written
felt and never once complete
Lyric lasers beaming densely
condensation compromised
at the cutting edge of aural light
lacking graphic clarity
eluding synthesized illusion
Once we decipher unconventional
primal prismatic re-reflections
meanings life calligraphy
inscriptions narrative conceptions
we enclose and liberate
the hologram that seems to be
Infinite eternity of scripts
encrypted systems
webs of life’s distortions
fragmentation truth reality
paint the picture of
conflicting contradictions
making sense constructions
lithographic mystery
moulded into understanding
Holograms are limited to
the scope of three dimensions
tending mind and body soul
complementing contrasts
hollow narrow depth untold
Burrowed in words rational
irrational emotions rationale
defence deflections oppressed
repression incarceration
loose out transitional
transcriptions miss the point by far
the bigger picture yet emerging
uncertain clarity sculpted
in hieroglyphic excavation
Carving holy boundless beauty
with the fourth dimension
of subjective sense perception
and the changing timeless
flowing circuit circus artwork
in the making reading writing
on the imaginary wall of life
over and above the hologram
engraved in fallacies
arrests of real unreal reality and
strikes the balance never known
of what is and only seems to be
22th May 2016-05-22
Contest entered: Holograms and Hieroglyphs
Tell Me -Who Do You Say That I Am?
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Word
First voice to enlighten creation’s realms
Word of prophet’s words from mystic mystery runes
Prophecy and proverb wearing vision
Flow from pure agape
Living Psalm
A to Z – song composed – never a chord that stumbles -
The perfect chaste circle drawn in round circumference
Architect of straight lines with no wobbles -
Unbroken circumcised covenant – designer of my soul
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Anointed Mighty
Unreachable star embraced
Crafter of restoration for rebellion thrashing
Defies disabled limbs with steps of faith
Transfiguration of blackness to see the eternal face
Opens ears to hear thunder’s glory
Dines with astonished tree dwellers
Full measure of mercy’s undisturbed pulse
Knows each of my words before they breathe
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Righteousness
Metamorphosis of nativity
Bottomless paradigm of favor
Wheat and grape in synchronicity
Holds back the hand that flings the stone
Raises up cowering shame
Eyes of perfect sight plan perfection’s gift for each heart
Pristine living covenant
My enigma’s answer – my conundrum’s solution
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Eternal
Valentine of paradise
Eden’s immaculate reforestation
Vine of the endless unblemished harvest
Anointed eternity with us
Wholeness of a holy rainbow
Gold - no need to be refined
Face of forever consolation
My first breath in every season’s restoration
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
You are I AM.
4-27-21
Contest: Tell Me. Who Do You Say I Am?
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
In that meteoric moment
she exhibited eternal qualities of wonderfully wrought womanhood,
calm,disciplined and candid,
adorned with few distinctions from the rest behind her
the loving leadership was projected in painstaking posture,
brutal perfection,a suffering of diligence amounting to total serenity,
she being a gem amongst stones,
for inexperience a cure,
synchronicity simple & symetrical like ripples in a river,
the troupe twirls & turns as leaves whirl gingerly in pools of water livid,
their torsos taut like trunks of young & vital trees,faces flowers,
brilliant when in cold morning view,
hands impossibly curved on extended arms,hearts placid,
without looking the dancers drape their faith
upon the integrity of her warm luminosity,
the lead lioness quietly commands their orbiting obeisance,
in her hushing eyes the sparkle of a rich race communicates confection
to the contemplative congregation,
she is a Godess in the midst of nymphs,
something dangerous,calamitous,manifested mutely in the expression
of a posterior dancer
whom strangely stares at the back & soul of the leading lady in stance,
this suggestive & supportive figure embodying dispassionate envy,
strategically laying seige
to the gloriously innocent leader of this cultural romance,
a reminder reminiscent of Eve's two children
in the forgotten fields of antiquity
where success was hunted savagely by the weakness
inherent amid imps -
This poem is premised upon a photograph of a traditional Cambodian dance troupe -
J.A.B.
It’s hard to say what strange forces play
From time to time throughout our lives;
Some call it a coincidence
When separate occurrences collide.
It’s that funny feeling in the pit of your being
An event’s about to occur;
When sure enough the doorbell rings
And there stands him or her.
You haven’t seen in fifteen years
More or less in days or hours;
And the dream you had the night before
Revealed those same gardenia scented flowers.
Brought forth just to give you
A gesture of friendship and love;
Could it be that what we see is
Synchronicity from above?
And if you’ve felt the inclination
To follow a particular path
With no reason at all except for a call
That only silence could grasp.
Where logic and reason went out with the seasons
When nothing remained but chance;
And you discovered a treasure beyond all measure
Could it be the synchronicity dance?
Or something you found at the right time somehow
That spoke to you right as rain:
There’s a reason you discovered it here and now
In a way words can’t explain.
If a pen or a book a laugh or a look
Picture, poem or song
Reverberates deep inside your soul,
Synchronicity’s come along.
Eyes of black - Heart of cold
He was the missing piece of my soul
He entered my world dressed in leather and lookin' mean
He was a delicious scream within' a dream
The Nevermore of Forevermore - a cut that never bleeds
He was it - a renegade stallion - menacing and powerful
Mystical and magnificent
Just the sight of him could melt the Ice Queen
All or none - there was no in-between.
Dangerously decadent days dazzled their way into macabre months
Which mesmerized into years
I loved him so deeply, so deliriously, it was decadently obscene
A Master of the sexual dungeon where teeth show and blood flows
Nocturnal we were, an epic poem that only Poe could write
Coffin closely, dressing me slowly
Nothing was ever wrong and we were so right
Sanctimonious yet cloaked in unholiness
We were the nefarious midnight malevolence
With him being the fabulator and me the dramatist.
Execrable, formidable, respected, and feared
The A list of the Death list
Everyone knew we were - together - the best
The royalty of the Otherworldly
With the Bat and black roses being our family crest
Disquieting and disturbing - one exceptionally demonic night
He just dropped out of sight - GONE - MIA
With no reason - no write.
Malice and morbid myths materialized
None of which made any sense
Everything was exuberant, esoteric, enigmatic, better than alright
And in my defense - I was never left unsupervised
Oh how the tears burned and spirits cried
A cracked fairytale, broken mirrors, and torturous moans
Death changed my life but he was my everything
My liver, my lover, my dead dogs' bones.
An all-consuming, soul-stealing, head-reeling
Incapacitating time - That was timeless
Tainted, terrifying, tombstone trickery - I am TORN
And evidently, it seems
I was punished, periled, and paralyzed
"TO LOVE IS OFTEN TO BLEED"
I was ALONE and cursed with Demon seed
A travesty - Satan must be blind
My Master man thing
Being never heard from or heard of
THAT WAS THE END OF WE
So much for synchronicity
Gallimaufry of linkedin words appeal,
(particularly spoken by renown orator)
'cept when unnamed poetaster afflicted
with chatterbox syndrome,
nonetheless deliberate effected
muzzle restraint imposed
suppressing groundswell analogous
to swollen dam bursting at seams
tongue kickstarts controlled regulator
tripping baffling babbling brook,
sans (cheesy) mouth trap
conscious effort required
maintaining exhausting mental vigilance
attention oriented toward "active listening"
chiming into conversation
when casually addressed
quasi Uber tracking,
sustaining, rendering...
pondering dialogue deliberating,
mustering, aiming, firing...
apropos response adhering
to utmost strictures de rigor,
versus loosing (in the sky)
scattershot poppycock
offbase blatherskite, asper
topic under discussion
synchronicity satisfies peculiar
personal logical paradigm,
despite senseless compulsive predilection
condemning premature ejaculation
plus crosstalk as penultimate transgression
pertaining to papa blurting
asynchronous interjection
consigning tight lipped penance
penile solitude condoned
should predicated persistent plague
prevail attributing penuriousness
lame excuse pardoning yours truly
remote possibility, threatening
spurious spontaneous splendiferous
albeit ill timed unspeakable retort
with hot sealing wax - most wicked
verbal utterance arrogantly
perforating, piercing, protruding,
puckering... two lips
escaping out mouth
more rapid than witnessing
the quick brown fox
jumps over the lazy dog.
Like a whirling dervish rainbow of satin flowing veils
She floated across the dance floor, mesmerizing the room of males
Contorting and consorting with the grace of a gentle swan
Of many different colors, seven veils she did have on
The first to float upon mid air, uncovered a midriff curved but tight
Then one escaped the left leg and one escaped the right
Her skin was smooth and milky; her limbs were long and thin
Her hips, she would gyrate wildly in an erotic rotation
With each veil that she unraveled, in perfect synchronicity
She displayed more of the artwork that is a woman's mystery
Eyes followed her in wonder, watching her every move
Anxiously awaiting for the last two scarves to be removed
There was beauty in her motion, the music and body moved as one
Sweat glistened off her perfect form when the last veil came undone
The seven cloths scattered about the room, which everyone ignored
As they could not stop drinking in the sight of this goddess they adored