With the ease of angels


6

I don’t like weddings – they remind me often
Of divorces, debts, bad resolves
I ache for the presence
Of flowers at the diner tables

When love’s dinner calls
With wine and roses, simple charm
Which was my solace as a child
I stayed with Bach’s ever-living hum

I don’t like romance – it reminds me often
Of dreamers, youth, bad choices
Though I still ache for the touch
Of eyes in the sleep quarters

When sleep comes, who shall I sip
As I wrung my hands to dream
Of reckless light veils, and the
Ease of angels in the flesh.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/flowers-in-my-head-401750232

Anniversary of being Lucky


5

I sip to our anniversary
Of being lucky no matter what
Happens or is supposed to occur

I sip to our celebration
Of being happy no matter what
The world sends our way

Steam is pouring out of
These fortunate years
Mist is slipping by from our honeymoons

I sip to our anniversary
I’m sorry, forgive me, thank you, I love you:
Tonight is like any other night

I sip to being in love with your voice
That quivers by my shoulder
In the lucid night, warmed by the
Sudden laughter of your spirit.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Snow-White-Just-One-Bite-401747877

Power of Landscapes


3

We were all still lives in a landscape
Carrying on our shoulders the preferences
Of a world in waiting, being born

From our chest emerged
The stub of progress
A leg bone of surviving

Dignity that approached
The macrocosm with underlying
Curiosity, humility, midnight affairs

With far-away stars, we were
The children of death, or so it seemed
Ready to produce, consume, destroy –

Maybe we were not models of being mortal
But elements raged around us
That hit us like glass, bone, metal, flesh

Our families could not abandon matter
We gave line to inheritance, jerking back
From the end-of-life, no matter the obstacles

We were all living in a landscape
Of pyramids of our own species.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Riding-Sunrise-401736095

Symphony of Silence


28

I am in need of music that would flower
like salvation for my fretful moments
my fingers tips to be the trembling melodies
of the deep, clear, liquid, universal voice
that is not my own voice, but all voices
for the healing swaying, old and low

i am in need of some song sweet
that echoes the trance of silence’s source
i am in need of peace, after quiet breath
of heart made still, after high blood pressure
i am in need of music that showers forth
crushing all obstacles in rhythm and sleep

for notes transport us into frequency
and everything boils down to frequency and light
balls of light that dance in space-time
a music of freedom, so i am reincarnate
into another form, on another world.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Music-115768965

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Testimony of Cosmic Bells


27

Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you)
the universe colluded in an open field
we stood together like spiritual family –
sporting with ease the courting

cosmos in full view
Once in a dream (I woke up next to you)
I felt the pause of thirsty souls

who never in a lifetime find the true love
at length beneath the stars we
create narratives of time ran golden

and glory worn like beloved clothes
i felt your long black hair
for my spirit to expand in paradise

Once in a dream (for dreaming was with you)
i struck the bells wantonly, tinkle tinkle well
to golden lamps and oranges

while foremost we sparkled on the brink
of love at one with nature
in hours that cannot come again
but continue like the ding dong deep.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Blue-bells-269714352

In every flake that flies wide wandering skies


1

Leaves will rain the end of years
A pageant death-parting
O’ Autumn, it’s my soul

That gives you ear & listening
And hence who once was here
Cannot be forgotten yet –

My held breath in the day’s decline
Leaves will wash away what
Was once the blown night and day

Leaves and rain till the year’s flooding end
Your cheek against mine, the watery-way
With tears and of the blown night

The doom that waves her secret sign
Against my death, was my life in vain?
Adieu, waving last whispering of trees

Leaves will rain my last remaining years
With colors that will breeze to you?
Would ye ever wave an Adieu, for forgetfulness

Is coming so take flight all worries
What do you say to the breeze?
And what in that hush, say the breeze to you?

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Dance-Me-to-the-End-400908151

where we two first exchanged our looks


25

The signature of love is exceptional
it was no passing encounter
our souls were destined to meet

dear friend, momentary & casual
as the sudden close of a trip
where all spirits gather

somewhere, along the way
you came close to my soul
the unfolding of ourselves
together, moment by moment

you did not occupy condescension
but an open humility pervaded
everything you did and said

you allowed me a glimpse into
another kind of life, where all
goodbyes and departures meet

the last timeless acquaintance
until, I see all souls as familiar
the easy remembrance of futurity

Dear! how common and easy is
our new home, where we in this shiny neighborhood
rejoice in the wilderness of shared potential

the signature of empathy of our renaissance
it was no passing encounter
we were ordained to meet and share like this.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/girl-emotion-400845568

Ode to Percy Shelley


24

Lucid are the wild silver keys
Past the fountain of tears of youth
Where the spirit drinks

Ecstasy, till the brain is wide-away
To put to sleep a thousand fears
That once tormented us hourly

O’ like a drowsy child is now
Laid to rest in flowers of sunshine
Thou who were the ‘food of Love’

Talk to me sweetly of the stars again –
That I grew in thee with Music murmuring
Till the sweet self measures divinity

Every word a fragment from the golden shelf
Where the world’s great age begins anew
In each young person’s dissolving dream of soul.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/stare-400830786

Awed by your Splendor


22

If love hast ruled me, not hate
then shall I arise an older mate
who never loved like I do

where youth and love lie side by side
we shall stay young, in bed
and cherished happiness
If love thou hast for me, dear muse

my bride the rosy leaves
are flying to the shores
give to me, thy groom, soft sweetness
for eternity has gladness

here to pass, until the silver cord
bends lips of full kisses to thee
thy form is lovely, nearly as thy spirit
whose eyes are honeyed moisture

thick with the longing of
a lifetime without Aphrodite’s full charm
If love hast ruled me, not hate
then shall I abide with thee

Awed by thy splendorous dress
of good nature and stars near
with a bright face for me
in the roundest lights the earth can hold.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Golden-Autumn-400631743

For Fairest Woman, of Worthiest Men


152

Oh do not leave, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone
That I have celebrated women
(In the best & worst of times)

For the world’s soul signs its name
In my heart with the breath of devotion
To human and diviner things
Oh love is a strange fever in organics

That burns with a knowledge of possession
Giving the fire of meaning in attachment
Though I have sought to flee attachments
I have found that a good mate is

A kind of death to the world, and all other women
Such being the case, I am enslaved by
A world full of women, and their care
With only cause to essay to please them

That is the true fever from which I suffer
Gladly or nobly, I do not know
So shall burn this world, and none have wit
That such roles as man and woman
Were given to us, for breeding and other cares.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Empty-400146375

Dawn without the sometimes Furious Swarming of Coins


20

Dawn arrives in magnificent loneliness
Without hassles or questions

Only a lovely waiting –
That grasps essentials

Effortlessly, with pillars of the sun
Milky drafted anguish for

The beacon of tomorrow
Dawn in my City devours

Abandoned children, in the streets
Those who go out early

Know in their bones, each day’s value
Dawn arrives with light buried

Beneath our cheeks, under
A rootless science of hope

That we use to stagger through all suffering
Dawn arrives with a shipwreck of blood

Though we expected only monotony
The world is changing, my dears.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Dawn-95724313

For Saints Who Plea in my Little Ears


18

Now of the delightful Court of Heaven
I sign intermittent, love letters
To the Universe, to the fragrant memory
Of the holy life, sacred feeling –

I kiss the shinning joyous martydom
Of brief mortality, or the moon
Or my heart, the blue stained glass
Of experience, little blue reflections

Of dreams, that passed like hours of doom
That I love without conscience
To uplift my time in transparency
The oceans more blue than eternity

Made in the manner of Japanese
Accepting all requests, all signs
Of the most exquisite temperament
When I this morning made my way

I sigh intermittent, deep breaths
For hope and faith, as wearing a blue gown.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/New-day-III-399733723

In Adoration Immortalis


17

The altar of love
Bears a crushing resemblance
To war, a soft circle
Of moss where we once lived

Tied to each other in disparity
And our hearts moved
Rhythmically, as tender
As the unison of poorly

Led troops, to be sacrificial lamps
In a game as old as life
To smooth the flowering grass
Of all that we once prized

The immoral gods were not
So immortal, after all
As our eyes once devoured
Each other, dear –

All bids disarm, all decades fade
The wild alarm of youth’s soul
In rage, on the brink of
The quivering skin of festivity

Forever trapped in time
Both in sight and sound

Speechless as a cherished tomb. Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/nobody-knows-399333467

Judgment Day Has a Cosmic Voice


15

That strange flower, the sun,
Has been speaking in sun spots, solar flares
Telling us the world is looking ugly
Overcrowded, corrupt, without dignity

A massive truft of light
In the pollution of greed
Upon the animal pupil’s eyes
Those strange diamonds, the stars,

Have been talking about shooting stars
Telling us humanity is being judged
By higher powers, and the people are sad
They live in such a world

Economics has become the new dogma
An unholy God that lets a few profit
While people die every day
That ancient body, the ocean, Has been listening to us war for many millennia
Who listens for the snow, finding winter
Worrying about the end-days that are to come.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/West-Highlands-Sunset-399150633

This is the poetry


14

This is the poetry of all my years
with the rhythm that drops like water molecules
and the tongue of holy fires
that shoots with the breath that never-stops

This is the poetry designed for rants
that elegantly convey the big-mouth chanting
of an oppression and growth
of a thousand preaching words of subjectivity

This is the poetry of freedom
it gets enchained in singularities
and skips over synchronicity for thrills
of divine flavors past Shakespeare

This is the poetry that dares to search
for new manners of the riddle of words
into the silence of the great canvas
of art always becoming more personal

This is the poetry of body shaking pride
the quick and childishly glib facade
of the imagination stretched as far as a new nation
that connects all philosophers and poets in time

chanting a single written phrase
This is the poetry from the universe of life
the experience that no sociology can comprehend
the dreaded degree of loving necessity

when I talk to myself in poetry I talk
through all the wild poetry of your eyes.

Poetry Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-zoo-397858926

This Soil Spilt Through My Hands


13

we’ve ignored each other for a long time
been cruel to each other for profit’s gains
short-term, we’ve strictly ignored the environment
with nothing to usurp patriarchy

I’ll avoid the superpowers because of competition
when I was a boy I loved the world more
cared about things, believed that I would
roughtumble the divine forever

we were very close
God and I and all of nature
we’ve ignored each other for a long time
but gradually I was led to hate you

because of religion and higher powers
we were turned against each other
to make others rich, we lost blood over it
to make other rich, we ruined our planet

we spilled toxic waste to hide
our wrong-doings without long-term sight
i’ll avoid the penalties, I’ll make sure there are none
i have no conscience for descendents

but i cannot ignore you forever
i cannot live on this soil indefinately
my own pollution will cause me to die
God and I and nature, and all of you
will be find each other in other forms.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/A-good-nights-work-398482247

Shamanism of a Stolen Metaphor


12

One of the limits of reality
was the ability to imagine
to enrich a year via

direct-contact with the Universe
It was the lofty perpetual secret
of being secure in nature
a difficult song to face

the pure rhetoric of
the language without words
the enrichment that came from spirituality
an empowerment of the vibration

of faith, the chi of heroic surrender
a luminous pause before action
a trumpet before morning
to share the day that can substitute

all memory with gardening hope
the ability to alter the past
and the future’s whims

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/September-morning-398490252

Evolution in the Information Age


12

Time became the acceleration
An algorithm of fractal patterns
Of the new physics reincarnated

The reader became the book
And the observer, became the experience
It was the global telepathy of a new Era

The tweet became another signature
Of the collective-mind in motion
The house was never quiet, but the world was One

The scholar to whom the world was true
Knew this was only a passing expression
Upon the mind of futurity impregnating herself

Time became the notes on the page
Of conscious being purging itself
Getting closer to the stars

Through broken cartwheels of choices
That would determine how many lived
And how many died, the supreme decisions

Of corporate turquoise monsters
Who would re-write the books of history
A continual conversation of the elite
With their doom-machines, supercomputers.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Bird-in-ocean-398451836

Notes on World War III


11

God and all angels sing the world to sleep
For the end of the world is man made
With the blue tongue of greed, control
The Moon burns in the mind of history

Where war and politics are the domain of the corrupt
Staring, at midnight, into the Angel of Death
A catastrophic power play of midget nations
Yet life is itself, the fulfillment of petty desires

Money, the pillow of the head in the dark
Power, the bent over guitar of the green day
Organics thick-lipped, riot and rebel
For a new world that cannot be born

Till the old world dies of its own inflation
God and all angels sing the world to sleep
That we might die, for others to take our place.

Art Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/D-R-E-A-M-S-398472986

The Death of Motherhood


9

Life contracts and death is expected
As in a season of coming Autumn
Life blossomed and love was had
As last Spring when everything changed –

When the wind stops, when the flowers
Wave their imposing colors
So temporary, like all things
Calling for pomp, begging for luxury

All to be included in the clouds
Nevertheless, life’s abundance trumps
Life expands and beginnings are necessary
As in a season, to break all seasons

The future was an ideal of beautiful proportions
Where everyone goes in their native direction.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/44-398449586