pouring summer rain
pounds white crepe myrtle....
snow carpets the ground
Life was gentle, there was beauty everywhere, in every moment,
Yet my heart was unfulfilled.
In a world of vast contrasts between good and bad,
I pondered on the notion of love.
My beloved, where are you? I often thought,
I would sit under the canopy of a beautiful tree.
Looking at the night sky….
I wondered if you were also looking up at the same stars,
Wondering where I was……Yet we had not met yet.
Like a warm breeze,
I love you still
All I know is I loved you long before we had a conve ????
Life was gentle, there was beauty everywhere, in every moment,
Yet my heart was unfulfilled.
In a world of vast contrasts between good and bad,
I pondered on the notion of love.
My beloved, where are you? I often thought,
I would sit under the canopy of a beautiful tree.
Looking at the night sky….
I wondered if you were also looking up at the same stars,
Wondering where I was……Yet we had not met yet.
Like a warm breeze,
I love you still
All I know is I loved you long before we had a conversation
I swallowed my pride and looked at my ego and told myself I could make it work and love you in ways I did not think I could because I do that for myself every day.
Drizzling webs, wanderer’s shelter
Asylum to the nocturnal,
Warring, nomadic spirits, rambling
On gossamer threads, strands so silken
Trembling with soundless lessons….
Sprinkling buds, costly shadows
Silhouettes of bruised flowers, eclipsed,
By the plethora of rain, flowing,
Gentle like the voice of mourning sun,
Pledging to erase the silence of stardust moon…
Showering oaks, walnuts and pine trees
In affectionate kisses, wet like a river,
Risking each tender glance,
Graceful as the Sunday morning hymns,
More psalm than proverb, so still and cool…
Raining droplets of liquid faith, prayers
Prayed by souls who listen,
To the descent of yesterday’s praises,
Whispering through the mist,
Blessing each heart with flavors of melting kisses.
Under the pouring rain,
I no longer have thoughts of you
Or of your lingering presence
And your condemning silence.
To live another day without you
Feels easier as I stand drenched.
Under the pouring rain,
I could look back at history
And not feel the wrenching pain in my chest
Or the knot in my throat.
I could think of you with tenderness
And not of the hurtful things you've done.
Under the pouring rain,
I am no longer homesick for your arms
Or for my name to be called out again.
I could feel relieved to have freed from memories of you,
To have forgotten your voice
And your smile that once meant the world.
Cigar but no cigar
extinguished by the elders
Gaslighting commissioners held in tweed
The night people slide in between
Pouring light
velvet dolls
play with their own discord
electric spears happenstance
pale Harlequins of the night
scratch their gilded fears
outstretched hands
that jabs the line
of ghost trains
Stacked chips
sequined starlets shinge
Rhinestone streakers parade
paying homage
to pipers never paid
who snort energy in spoons
You leave me bruised
Sputtering around with no life
I gave you everything and
You took everything from me
Leaving me distorted
Twisted in this disfunctional world
I watch you live your glorious life
Hoping mine will come soon
Crawling out of the hole you buried me in
And living my best life
Would show you how determined I am
That through all the darkness I've risen
Through all the pain I've overcome
Through everything I have survived!
9-7-23
In the splendorous sky of my ardent heart,
you sparkled like the sequins of the moon.
As I suffused your sapphire sheen to attune,
my heart turned into shimmering indigo art.
It became the horizon of the nascent dawn,
from its chromatic palette a new day arose.
All its colors the dream brush fervently chose
for my heart’s canvas with sunburst love drawn.
In the rhythm of spring zephyr my heart swayed,
the rippling tune resonated with its sonorous beat.
Its captivating cadence had never been so sweet,
it morphed into romantic music for me to serenade.
I painted my heart with the patina of the scarlet sky,
like dew-drenched petals of my love’s garden rose,
where I saw the facsimile of your florid face repose,
wafted by the wooing wings of my heart’s butterfly.
Draped by the silver sheen of dancing moondust hue,
my heart became the crescendo of ecstasy symphony.
Floating in the melody of stellar song you came to me,
mesmeric motif of my moonshine heart adorned you.
Pouring out my heart, it’s devoid of all blood
Perhaps more knotted, resembling of redwood
Splinters and shavings, fall away with each thud
Can’t escape this logjam, only wish I could
Pouring out my heart, but it’s failing to bleed
I’m losing my grip, roots won’t let me proceed
Failing right now, to try express what I need
Asking friends to listen, then pay them no heed
Pouring out my heart, packs sawdust in a sack
Peep inside the hessian, can only see black
Empty now, that’s ok, voids always grow back
How come I’m still here, has Jesus cut me slack
Pouring out my heart, clots heavily engrained
Tied to dilemmas, escaping leaves me drained
Worse part of all, my collapse is unexplained
For better or worse, gravity’s not sustained
Pouring out my heart, there’s nothing’s left to pump
Felled to the ground, with the slightest little bump
Prostrate and broken, a fragmented tree stump
I’m resting come join me, make a chair we’ll slump
Pouring out my heart, through a duty of care
The fruits of my labor, look across and glare
I gaze beyond them, thinking life’s over there
Vines grow round my neck, help lift me off the chair
white wine beer mixer
sunrise awaits, raindrops spritz~
poor mans champagne joy
#4
This frigid weather is getting me down
Was planning to sunbathe today
Perhaps I won't with temps in the minus
Skin freezes in 30 seconds they say
Maybe it's better if I wait 3 or 4 months
Sunburn is better than freezer burn
Besides my bikini would go all the way up
To my nipples as to purple they'd turn
I'm Canadian eh! So what's all the fuss
Used to go out in my jockeys
When it'd get down to the minus twenties
But I'm no longer young and cocky
With some guys it takes a wee bit longer
For their brains to fully develop
Eighty-eight soon so I'm looking forward
To finally pouring my own ketchup
in the evening full rain
in heaven sans any stella
no one hides his umbrella
He is not THE mad hatter, but rather the tea pouring mad hatter.
What is the difference? I asked. The ghosts made a clatter.
He’s crazy like the other, but he does not incessantly chatter.
And he pours tea into soups, sandwiches, and raw chocolate batter.
The Rain trimmed by umbrella
The Body retains the winter vibe
memory Frozen BY cold
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