The Pleasure Before and After Poems

What is poetry?
Poetry is the night-magic
Of prayer, the last resort
After reality has hit

It’s the splash of appreciation
For beauty as the eye of
All tenderness and last lyrics
Poetry is the sound device

Of your heart as it
Smiles in metaphors
And transforms in tone
To the pattern of your genius

There is no good or bad poetry
It just exists, like language or
A calligraphy of sense and style
Mood’s personification in

The haiku of lasting resonance
A punctuation of grace
A syntax of serendipity
What is poetry?

It’s the last smile of movement
In alphabets, in the joy
Of laughter for any age
Poetry is what we feel

Before we say it
It’s uncensored melody
With a human voice
It’s the flower on a page

Of what we love in word-play
It’s the gratitude of being able
To see beauty and cherish the sacred
What is poetry which does
Not save nations or people?

FATE OF HUMANITY

Beloved, how am I to say?
How should the soul fly
Or find wings, for this heart’s powerful memories
That Love might win out over time
And sea not be ruined by our cities

Beloved, I have stood
For the duration of many suns
But nobody is saved from impermanence
So what heroism of gratitude
Can repay the service of this life given to me?

I have blossomed and found peace
Like a flower in full bloom
Thrived in this world of dreary separation
Starved for union, to things beyond this world
How shall the soul take wings?

You have the grace of answer
I’ve not the memory to wait all eternity
For one day the sun should wander
Outside of her limits, and the sky grow dark
Beloved, did not the Prophet travel?

From planet to planet, until all worlds
Found their equivalent to pure gold
Truth, justice, equality and shared wealth.

SUFI PSALM

O Beloved, supernal and exquisitely omnipresent
O garden among the flames
Of so many dreamy lifetimes
I have sat at the table of my heart
Waiting for signs of your rapture
I have had a meal with other souls
To drink your water of timeless love
I have talked to the spirits of all the worlds
Only to hear your laugh in their strange mouths
O Beloved, we who profess the religion of love
Follow you, without any material care
My heart can take on any form because of you:
A meadow of gazelles, a cloister for monks
The idols and sacred grounds have been left behind
For a future whose caravan path only you know
O Ocean without a shore
O Morning Light without darkness
I have had hid myself from you for too long
In the guise of a scholar, in the suffering of a peasant
Thou art a unity sphere with no precise locality.

Psalm 1

Blessed is the man that walketh the path of delight
Listening to the echoes of the counsel of inner Bliss
For in happiness there is rebirth, the art of living
Without malice, exploitation, execution of evils
But his accomplice is the law of Love;
And to this goodness he meditates day and night
And he shall be like water that would nourish
Protect, empower, enoble and exchanging delight
His Seasons shall be glad, and he shall have sincere friends
His leaf shall not wither, but prosper
Under his hand of care, lending the secret
To his fellows, and his art and wisdom shall then know
The positive sign for which his life was made
Not to harm others in any way, but to rejoice
To recognize, to esteem, to celebrate
There is no judgement in the righteous path
For to each one has their fate, their time to perish
Or feel gratitude beneath a billion shared suns.

Whispers of The Rose

The temple bell dies away
An Empire scatters to the winds
But the scene of a flower
In the evening air

Is Immortal, like the Rose
Whose red-spirituality
Is still tolling the bell
Still Holding up the Empire

Of beauty, this haunts even the sun
A silence at the palace chambers
Of the mystic visionary heart
The dream of life from

All my other dreams, the last symbol
She spreads infinity scrawled
In her pink petals to the starry sea
Each time I encounter that

The sacred fire that is God’s temple lit
A unity of the universe in a leaf
I know the spirit wears its own plumes
Back to the source of our divinity.

Call to Poets CONTEST, enter your 3 best poems:

http://www.writerscafe.org/contests/Wuji-International-Poetry-Festival-V/49443/

To read about it:

https://seshatwuji.wordpress.com/wuji-international-poetry-festival/%5D

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/rose-152423323

I Am Made to Bow

I affirm what Divinity affirms
What does God affirm?
So if you cannot negate
What God negates, how

Do you suppose to commune with her?
She knows that I am a member
Of ignorance-society, so she smiles
And ask me to have a sense of

Humour, I precede to fill my days
With signs of gratitude
For a Lord Supreme, nature
In the silence of earth-necessity

I affirm what evolution allows
Secretly, her powers of heaven-necessity
Immediately, faultlessly, working
Through me, as a Man who

Unknowingly crawls towards God
But women, breathlessly bow to Delight
Knowing divinity more intimately,
If I affirm those who empower nature

I must learn to serve women better.
My Beloved Supreme who
Teaches me how to give, not from capacity
But from striving to emulate her perfection.

Call to Poets: Contest: http://www.writerscafe.org/contests/Wuji-International-Poetry-Festival-IV/49425/ [more info at: https://seshatwuji.wordpress.com/wuji-international-poetry-festival/%5D

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Daria-f-429604421

where we two first exchanged our looks

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

Vaulted over a raining star

We sit in silence
a brute Oneness
washing over us
legs crossed, oh
and hand in hand
at each side of the
young universe but
We are joined, like
whispers and magic
the sudden outpour of light
in the drama of creation
unified with our garden rising
into the skies, a majestic smoldering
of all the love we contained
in bodies that breathed the rippling
of scarlet years that waved
in the breeze of once-upon-a-times
unlikely we felt and squeezed
souls that were named ‘you and I’
we sit in silence still
having communicated everything
found everything at our source
I have no idea why
I find it so moving
that’s just life how
things distances wade through
Us to our core, eyes wide
with the surprise of meeting
the familiar down the path
the loving knock at the door.

Photo Courtesy : http://www.deviantart.com/art/summer-night-393404782

Communal Sunlit Ethic

Give me Psalms for a life
Well lifted, and gratitude in store
Give me morning embraces of altruism
To make the world a better place!

Give me a life that is real, earnest, positive!
For I am tired of living in fear
If love is not the goal, O’ soul
Tell me what should be your living poetry?

Give me art that is long, harmonious
To cherish the hours that were once our own
In the world’s brief battle field, let us say
That we loved, and fought for her

That the future is simply the recurrent present
And in surrender to the higher joys
We found our place, at the foot of compassion
At the summit of bliss is an acceptance of fate

Give me Sacred Constellation prayers
For minutes that were built with peace
For the living morning of a greater love
By the evening star, by the lighthouse

By the chapel of the heart, by the flight of childhood
Give me row after row of Beloved language
A light to lift my seaside faith
In lyrics of the purity of soul.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/I-won-t-forget-you-378646154

Fragment: To One True Fate

Is not today enough, love upon the seas of fate?
Few flowers grew upon the wintry way
This is spring and summer of my cheerful return
Sufficient unto the day of my last belonging’s tide
That discord was and but a dim slave
And sorrow a petty repetition in the brain
Is not love enough, enough for today?
I have wandered long enough
Like an ocean, homeless and unconfined
But these days appear like a settled-dream
As if a warm and gentle atmosphere
Kept me close and sweet and tender
In the health of our shared wealth of soul
It is enough, to make the spirit sing
With the speed of singing love’s own name.

Absence of Lost Lover Souls

I can scarcely leave you
I am crystalline for you
Trembling, with peace
My cells are in ceaseless wonder

Over your body of water
How could I have lived without you?
My love,

We have found each other
Like fire bites of lives where
We missed each other

Choosing wrong husbands
There was an absence
That left wounds in us

I can scarcely leave you
I am hungry with our blood-tie
Our souls leaving the world

With sweetness on our lips
Perhaps we shall die
Hours from each other

I can scarcely leave you
A minute alone, for it is all
Our selfish eternity of being together.

Photography Credits: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Amazing-smile-please-376291485

Words of Friendship

Only they are only breath
These words come from my source
My brief light of granted heart

The spoken commands of my immortality
With wings and feet that move
Rhythmically, and tenderly

I dance for a crushing altar of love
A circle of soft understanding
A smooth flowering grass

Of the best little breaths I ever had
These words come from the universe
Before they were mothers without children

Devoted to friends, these words sing on
After we are all gone, so be it
It’s not of use to fret of acts that were never had

I nearly died for imaginary things before
Only they are only breath
These words that dangle carelessly

Across the shooting distance of quick years
My dreams they fold at least in purple
A handkerchief around your timid gifts
I was sent to you to give you companionship.

Photography Credits: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Burn-it-Down-II-375988008

Little Forgotten Kingdoms Beneath the Stars

I’ll meet you once in a lifetime
Where even the stars cannot meet!
What day is it? You say I seem like a dream
By candlelight, we kiss again
As if for the first time, dear
I’ll meet you once in a lifetime
That is not too many or too few times
How can youth race like it has before?
When we were meant to be together
Where even the stars cannot shine
What day is it? Time to still be together
Forever, by the divine luck of our fates
I’m surprised and joyful, how friends
Can stay together across the distant years
What day it is? You say we only met a few weeks ago
I’ll meet you once in a lifetime
And I’ll never let you go, until the roses
Themselves grow dim by the moonlight
After a long absence of love, you broke through
My great solitude, and I found you familiar
And as tender, as nobody I had ever met
What day is it? That we smile and laugh
Our way to the Heavenly kingdom
That is the crown of Earth, that you are
You have been the one person for me
I’ll meet you once in a lifetime
I waited for you through a few dozen years.

June 3rd, 2013

The Valley of Obviously

When I pronounce the word future
I know it’s your birthday
Everything is open and possible
Like, flowers beneath your feet

The only roads are those that
Offer serendipity, divine access
You were always one to walk
The sunlight path, so when I hear

You breathe in transcendent footsteps
I make an inner smile, for the tapas
The weight of proofs were never enough for you
When I pronounce the world your lover

I know it’s your birthday
The tree of valid harmony above you
It too, is raining flowers for tomorrow
And everyday will feel like this –

A dazzling understanding, straight and simple
From the verity of your strange art of heart
When I pronounce the word creativity
I know it’s your birthday

A vaster vista, a garden of deeper love
Waits for you in the gentle now.

O Like a Fire That Flickers for the Fairer Sex

I think of women on
Hot extravagant afternoons
Words from the Earth, my little bread
The water of centuries picked clean
I let the red ink of these prerequisite passages

Settle in me, their earthy wisdom
Like a masseur’s warm open hand
Their expert flirtation of
Psychology and innate fastidious ‘performance’
I think of women on

Cool nights that restore my pulse
I listen to them too much
To hasten to their self-same torments
I’ve heard all of their complaints
On the tipsy tip-toes of poetry

I did nothing to provoke them
My goldenrod of spilled yellow friendship
I am a living animal, in their presence
An outlawed sign-language of my desire
They read on their unmenacing lips

A sour frantic belonging of their value
I think of women on
Mornings of the shrewdest plans
They are instrumental to my cathedral-abundance
I’ve become too good at giving & giving-in

And now a most savage dog
I think of women on the way here, or there
After-hours rain downs my familiarity
I think of women like naming the planets
Pirates of my soul’s bleeding kisses

Whimper, silly, hush, flood, hot-flashed
I think of women and their sweet roar
Sweat, push, pull, sign, moan, hush.

The Business of Light

The moon’s orb waxes and wanes/
On me for days, like a holiday without limits
Prize emotions, going into battle
Mortality, salty and sweet –
–
Sickness melts into health
Abandonment into revelation
My longing for the music of the soul
Cannot be kept down for long, the

Tambourine-sun of my heart/
Is Venus personified, shinning like
Heart break spread upon rosebuds
Of the playing in concert of final compassion
–
I obliterate pain, with eye medicine
My vision exceeds night-fantasy
The ground underfoot becomes
A living hue of the plumb and culprit grace

All-around, that we are sometimes blind to/
I have been lifted by Jupiter, to the highest throne
The dawn where love is more, than merely
A person, or a personal salvation
–
I am the criss-cross of splendour, a student
Of wishes that turn to subtle praise
For the exceeding wisdom in existence
Listen, for the light of my owlish grin.

29.4.2013

The Toast of First Conversations

You are inside every kindness/
And I am haunted with the giving
I cannot write about the source
Of my dreams, these are ways of loving
The thrill of identity’s finest evidence!

Every natural pleasure/
The vicinity of joy
The unity that occurs
When someone loves something
It is the passion of dedication

And I am haunted by it/
I live to encompass it
Like pure compassion
The table of my life’s delight
Has been set, and I am waiting for

Participants, friends, lovers/
The silence of self-annihilation
A mystical otherness of inner finding
You are inside every kindness
A symbol of my devotion

The living shiver or roselight/
The new idea on the sky of the brain
The conversation that changes everything.

God in a Secular World

Nothing impels action like
The love of God, which has –
So many forms, teeming sub-shoots
Like subcategories of Evolution
Sects of harvesting Will
Offshoots of motives of the Beloved

God will not give anything in return
But we will act, in brief necessity
Dying to the art of our years
With the bare hearts of our fleeting youth
I think the hope of loving

Keeps us going, even when
We are unable to adapt, unable to act
I have been like this for a while now
The love of God, it’s not lost on me

I’ve translated mysticism even when
I’ve wept for the light that didn’t reach my heart
It is said God is always ready for us
But we seek him without, not within.

(For We Know Silence Already)

You tell me that silence
Is closer to God, than poetry
Who am I to disagree –
The best words have always been inner
Like empathy, breathless & unsaid
.
You tell me that silence
Is nearer to your heart than your writing
Though you write from a truer
Place than I do, I can feel
The peace in your few aching words
But I can bring your silence
.
It’s built in my calm, my meditation
Before I had a voice, a body, a life
I was a gift of silence, unborn –
You hand my poems back to me
With a slow smile and I retreat
.
Back into the silence of our
Shared understanding, it’s sweeter
There, than before – when all
I was, were poems strewn across the floor.

Gateway of an Author

In the kingdom of poets, you are my
Pronoun intertwined, my lover of words
I read you like a lover touches you
.
.
I learn to be in your suppositions
Striving to yield in your lyricism
And break free in your hypothesis
In the realm of expression, you are my
Premonition of the dream of years
.
.
Arriving forever at distant wonder
Alphabets of yearning, unmistakable fountains
I attempt to enter your gateway of being
With the optimism of your humanitarianism
I read you like a lover touches you
First tenderly and then fiercely, over and over
Again, you are the singing in my brain
The lavish ceremony of my soul’s literature
.
.
I grasp at meanings in-between your sentences
And analyze you because you told me
That I could know you through your poems.

Sugarcane of Spring

We are a warm spell
Of Spring arriving with different kinds of light
The light to warm us from the inside
A glee of wind and the sweetness
Of how we walk together, side by side

Our thoughts glow with one and another
Some naive people have not gotten
Close enough to you to understand
One drinks from the other
One tenderly learns from the other

To smell the musk of spring, and not judge
Why we share the same fragrance from a jar
Taking us to the face of a different Goddess
You that pour ease into me, my life is burning
Like a candle-moment, I am the newest moth

There is a confusion in surrender, in walking alone
The terrible grief and bliss of being so fragile.

With the Language of the Birds

There is an order of love
That knows no boundaries
It’s the serving that affirms existence

It’s being out of the senses
With gratitude, conversing with compassion
Where devotion is sustenance

And the Beloved is formless, and thus
Present at all peculiar times
The sagest source of moments

I’m half heart, and spirit
I’m half clay, and water
I met the Beloved last night

In an open field of dream
I was told to live like a drunken gypsy
That my true income was measured in Bliss

So I wobbled left and bobbled right
Not knowing how to do it
Until I let myself go a little mad
To live among strangers & lovers.