A f t e r A l g e r n o n 

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A f t e r A l g e r n o n

O Spring what lutes heard in yellow
From the golden sighs of youth
Lost and drunk on lips and eyelids
That now have no remembrance

And how our sleeves beg for beauty
If not the Ballad of life once again
Or that flesh that dwindles each decade
Or skin that grows new lines and

Muscles that find in time little praise
Where went lovers and passion
Whose laughter and magic
Felt so intense as if a grievous thing?

O Spring what have you done
Under your breath to us
O smitten lips, O sinful having breasts
O erotic flattery and temptation’s bell

How the passage of her days
Have made us less brave, less apt
To carry our taunt flesh in raiments
Woven with the mirth of curiosity

So we must go on, in gracious last days
Remembering dreams of fair maidens
And flowers as if we lived yesterday
The gold raiment of starkest youth

And bravest obstacles to win a secret
In how we came and parted our loves
How we kissed, embraced and bowed
All our noblest parts bruised and soul-caught

Now we must take our marigold leave
From all these shelters and insincere hands
To let the love of righteous adventures
Find peace in the spoilt gold of our minds.

U n d e r s t u d y of B e a u t y 

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U n d e r s t u d y of B e a u t y

You are so beautiful it’s as if
You’ve locked up beautiful things
That you have moved me

That you might show me
It is true I’m afraid of the power within you
If you would look at me

I would show you the immensity of it
The size and majesty of it, ask any man
How wonderful it is, yellow woollen breast

Grass bent in prayer, dew leaping over
Your feet, you are so beautiful
I should have asked for your name

Out lout and answered yes
But beauty is fleeting, like youth
You wrote it down, maybe that is enough

Like rubbing against by mistake
Freshly painted doors, listening
To laughter on the other side

There’s no woman on the internet
There’s no women in my life
So proactive as a fleeting face

Etched in my memory for love’s mortal hours
Yes hours, that cannot dream of intimacy
That learns suddenly, you are already a mother.

The Harp Weaver #NaPoWriMo #NationalPoetryMonth

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The Harp Weaver

I will be gladder
Than the gladdest thing
Because you are here

I will touch a hundred flowers
Just to feel your grace
With quiet eyes and more than a little wonder

I will wait
An entire lifetime if need be
I will see the grass rise

The greenest of new spring
And the Moon floor
The Ocean up to the tides

I will learn to love blackness
As if the unpatented light
Will not spread without horizons

Into morning, I will be still gladder
The day you arrive in my life.

Wisdom we acquired in each other

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Wisdom is acquired in insight and experience

I want a silent woman to console
We’ll be together
A hush over everything

Silent women wait for love
While the world waits for spring
Spring is here and life has

Loveliness to sell
We’ll be those beautiful and splendid things
That have no price but youth’s offering

Carless and content like
Holding wonder like a cup
My own spirit has a feeble mastery

Of the deeper emotions that you stir
Whose vision is a warmth unconcealed
And a nudity of sense and soul

I want a feeling woman to explore
We’ll be together
The art of joy, joy of art
And thirsty range of the bounds of beauty.

Celebrity of You

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Celebrity of You

Parting is all we know of each other
And God is all we know of heaven
So why does it feel

I walk to heaven to meet you?
They say that God is everywhere
But I felt him most
In your presence

What does it mean,
So tell me the truth and tell it with a slant
I want a love that is anterior to life
Dying a wild night
In the arms of an eternal youth.

The End of Sunsets #Inspiration #Quote

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Changing arrangement of Sunsets

There is no plan for sunset
It occurs spontaneously without regret
It spells an end to twilight
There’s no awkwardness in beauty
Spilled like milk into

The commonly visited public areas of the sun
There’s no avoiding its heavy furniture
Of color, it’s secure room of visual silence
It resets your day with dignity
Sometimes you just need to burry

Yourself in a moment, and pay attention
By not paying attention, and viewing
The macrocosm for what it is, your tininess
That’s anxiety hitting the fan
In Kaleidoscopes, that’s commitment

To art in nature’s intricacy
It’s an honest joy to be shocked by beauty
Cradled as if you were young, thrown back
Aesthetics is synthesis, appraisal is infinite
Experience is fluid, that’s where art begins
And you learn to shut up.

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?

Poetry is the First Pleasure


What is poetry?
Poetry is a whisper
The quiet voice of dreaming
That can never die

So long as civilization
Makes art, poetry spreads
Poetry is the eyes of things
In the soul of words

She is the ancients
Transcending time itself
Poetry is beauty
Unchanging unlike truth

A rhythm of sentience
On the face of rhyme
She is the admired song
Of the sweetest voice

She is the heaven-rapture
Dancing on the tip of bliss
What is poetry?
Poetry is of the wood

Poetry is the making
Of water and stone
She is the building of
Literacy in a world

Of discrete poems, where
We originate, create, evocatively
The poisis, the first-awakened
A realized feeling expressed

For all our eternities
So imagery, form, rhythm and sound
Might trumpet, flute and come
Alive in the music of our
Deepest lack of inhibitions.

The Right true end of Love


Love’s progress does not wait
For Elegies or romantic verse
The right true end of love is
Carried over, in the next generation

For how long, whose to say?
Until our children are born immortal
Until our machines talk back to us?
By our new nature, from planets

Harvesting stars, equally at peace
Love’s progress no longer rests
In the story between a ‘you and I’
Love is a thing for society

To share like virtue, soft and free
Perfection to unite, and value more
Than gold, more than wealthy
Or any physical kind of security

Although we see the celestial bodies move
Love and time have their own marriage
These swelling lips that sing of passion
And these serene hearts that dance
For a brief lifetime, that went too fast?

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Regnsjon-Morning-II-491904144



Desolation dreamed, of a less Golden cage
So my heart to rocking
Like a song in a boat
On a rainy day, without fish
To every face, I say farewell
Which of my possession do I propose to leave?

My jeweled faith or my
Unfaithful friends, desolation holds
This feigning to be asleep
When wide awake is all the loneliness
I shall ever achieve, I must leave

The fast-reddening sun to her own stride
Drops, against the open sky loom
Larger in the heart of this weary traveler
Home to a wordless hush of memories
I must speak in silent words to myself

Desolation dreamed, of freedom in a Sonnet
Somebody long ago, must have lost poetry
To insanity, dust which here and there
Floats in a short dazzling beam
Ready to give in to intangible dreams

So my heart to hoping in all directions
Like a song curving and delicate
Must stop, for all music ends
There is something to be learned, I guess
From looking at the starts for many years.




What happened here will have to do
Between me and you and you and I
What serves to bite our world in two?


To sever the world’s bright design?
If we are opposite tenants
Let us serve a common good
Love would span the difference
Between a woman, and a man?


It leads us to a place of running water
Symbol of life, swelling in simple
Sensuality, relenting watery permeations
Of Life and Love, time will not recall


The details, my friend, my love,
And the wet twilight won’t scare
The birds away, and come what may
We might live to see another Dawn.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/even-when-you-are-not-here-453057626



Mayflower, where art thou?
The snow-flawed days are done
Rains fix their resolutions
On the coming green to testify

That spring is as bright
As the homeland hearth
The gluttonies from which
All life sprung, galaxies wide

As the Everlasting Monday of growing things
Mayflower, Mayflower, where art thou?
The Spring she cannot be muzzled
Her superior pages of Nature force

Through the long wait, all patience
The roses know no maladies
Only the lovebeds of mornings after
That litter Daybreak with a white light
The snow-flawed days are done.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/spring-79554507

No Home like Femininity

Lying in bed I almost mistake Good health for youth Moonlight on the floor For memories of your skin Looking up I see the cold light For what it is, birthplace Source, cool strength Like your body that carried me … Continue reading

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:


To read about it:


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

The Last Sunset

After I have reached The West for clothes of new colors I will perhaps know the rows Of ancient trees, like my ancestors I will know the two worlds That separated past and future Sunken to Ocean, lifted to skies … Continue reading

The Word-Maker


I write as quiet as the Dew
Accustomed then, to my private
Flower, in an accustomed inner-realm

Where I am a fictive dream
But a symbol on a page
Once white, now transparent blooms!

My words drop as softly as the stars
In less skillful melodies than before
Sorer to believe that I have a gift

The Bee of mantras is not afraid of me:
I know the Butterfly’s secret stanza-home
I race to silent woods cordially

With Brooks that laugh louder
Than the forgotten rhymes of time
I write as quiet as the Stream

Who sings of madder breezes at play
For we can only create natural things
Even in our Olympics of alphabets

Better to be a writer, than an actor on the stage –
I relate better to neighbors imaginary
Than the marketplace of the dead.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Adoration-427932167

Of Siena’s Calling


Sweetness bears our spirit’s gains
Our soul’s anticipations guiding
The spherical gardens where

You tremble, womb of my child
The odour of life that
Opens all strange and unexplained colors

Sweetness bears a flower’s name
Suspended all over the Earth
The pink and orange explosion

Of trumpets of art and fragrance
Gold-packed ceremonies for all those
Who look for beauty on the street

And butterflies in the common heart
Sweetness bears the eternal name: Rose
The holy dance of petals falling

And the coming trance of lover’s
That never truly ends, in the garden of life
Sweetness bears a youthful name
Redness eased from the blushing heart.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Zoogio-The-Flower-Children-189751262

The America of Her Body


He travels slowly down his
Lover’s body, she is passive as
An angel waiting to turn human

They are dancing in body-talking
She swells to meet him arching
Her back, her navel, her harmonious

Chime of thighs, once winged
He tells her she is his Delphic oracle
To fill his ear full of sweet nothings

Those chosen pearls of hers do swell
They, intoxicated wait for the pulse
Of joy in earthly motions, those tongues

That dwell, on a boundless sea of successful
Unity, they scattered their dearest cries
Like an alchemy of flattered death

That strange hands and lips would not deny
Those kisses she and he know best –
He travels sweetly in her soul of gold

Through her moisture to the other side
She warms to a hot liquid of clay molding
Her form into mortal awareness, at last

With two bloods mingling gently as one
With no sin, no shame, no inhibition left
The marriage is a temple; the feast divine

Free license to all roving art, from behind
Before, above, between, below, a new-found discovery!

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/–409074243

Weightless we stirred ashes with our hands


Weightless are our holy words
with breaths from owlish darkness
our swooning shoulders cannot move
without thought, without poetry

We bury our fingers in the inner voice
to bring up the alchemy of water
where our empty body is pure energy
We scatter ourselves, moving light

with the serenity of our minds
we run through gates of sunshine
to find the words that move us
from brightness to blindness

Weightless, we are a unity of undoing
creating on seven strings the pillars of salt
that will crease the page as a pure sky
with wings of fire and gentle radiance
our words were meant to pour the oil of care.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-in-the-Overberg-407174930

Anniversary of being Lucky


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

In every flake that flies wide wandering skies


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

Ode to Percy Shelley


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

The Alchemist


I must have been an Alchemist in my past life
With a voice that lurches for Paradise
My eyes move along the bright trees
Searching for the peacock-throated night

It is you, my eternal saffron coloured gold
With skin of Mandarin, I remember ancient fire
Your tongue is as wide as the earth’s olives
Moist like the fishing torch of the leaves of poplars

I must have been crazy without you
Chanting for precious metals, I didn’t know
What earthly love could do to a man
I could give up riches, in an instant for you

Enchanted to roll in the silver wheat
Of rustling fields that would burst out
To remember that stillness that is your face
The daughter of the sun in my throat

A gift of light to my trembling sap
That brings me to touch the maple moons.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/llansteffan-castle-390483214



Bring those kisses back again
That are sealed with love for
Many a spring day, summer twilight
Bring those lips that shine of golden fruit

Bringwell, God knows we are meant
To rejoice a little, to heat up the frozen life
Of body going numb, and mind at rest
Where our bodies do join in honour and marriage

Bring, these and those kisses right here
That are sealed with garlands of love
Scents, roses, sapphires – let me comfort you
With flair, subtly, passionately – with hungry eyes

That dance the death of night so sweetly – too sweetly
Bring those kisses back again
For more, O’ my love for -evermore
Bring those lips that shine on, the holy rounds

Of health and ancient receptacles sugary
As in a vault of love, all cuddled up
For many a hundred years have I waited for thee.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Wild-horses-on-the-beach-382959170

Hot Months are Good for Love

Love whose months are
Budded May, Racing June, Glorious July!
Ever do the hours lack the days!
For life and leisure, love and lust!
All unseen passages lead to thee –
Playing as would a game
With blossoms, between the rain
For a hand that swears, and a heart
That heaves, I could imagine a year
Where love is the sweet priority
Joy-bringer and life creator
Love whose months are ever
Budded May, Racing June, Hot July!
Who can deny the Goddess of love
Some mortal worship, some mortal love
For things more Divine will always be there
Universal and waiting for us, through
The many lives we lead, I would lend
Some youth for velvet winds and eyes
That beckon, for the roses of thy cheeks
Love whose months have spring-summer songs.

The Quality of Love as the Mercy of a Season

O mistress mine, these are the years
Of staying and hearing, loving & teaching
I can feel you both high and low
The journey’s end of love-in-meeting
A present’s laughter for my ever-after
What’s to come is still as of yet, unsure

But certain is the sweet and forty
Of our romance, come here and kiss me
Youth’s a stuff that still endures
That can sing both English and Mandarin
With a quality of mercy to our tender strains
Twice blest with bounty, and blessedness

The throne that is the love of finding itself
O mistress mine, it’s too soon to call this
The season of justice, but by earthly powers
This is a mighty summer of blooming and crowning
Upon the place that is my heart, I take you
And hold you close and call you ‘princess’

And attribute our love a bit to ‘good karma’
Yours, perhaps not particularly mine.

These Quick Lasting Shared Truths


Beloved, these days thread the light
I saw no footprints in the air
When you came like a Mandarin prescience
The dust glowed gold, the silence turned
From the dear round earth to our starry home

Looking backwards upon time’s faint glows
Beloved, that love as strong as death
Could retrieve us from our life-breath
To give thee a forehead saving kiss
In the upper hand second half of our life
To witness all the marvels hung
And arrive at some finality of endurance shared
Beloved, these hours are full of contentment
The moving spirit moves my tears to-night
For on the altar-stair of sacrifice

I dreamed of your eyes looking in my soul
I saw no footprints in the air
When you came like a Goddess with choir
The dust glowed gold, the silence spun
From the dear round earth to our bodies pure

Beloved, that love as strong as death
Could refer the cause – Beloved, it is thou
Who came nearest to enchanted joy, than anyone before.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Sylph-381834123

Parallel of a Lost Chinese Antidote


Heaven has various glory
Sometimes but a symbol of peace
At dawn where the world is round
As with the triumph of the birds

It’s morning in the sweetest degree
Where Rapture is the last embrace
Of all the future Paradise
And bliss as a Superior Grace

Than we can see, or meet
A house upon the heights is our Spirit pure
That no dead can approximate
Heaven has various glory inhaled

Sometimes but a symbol of harmony
No other neighbor did find solitude
But in the conjunction of various needs
Who surrendered all their power

To the lucid nature of fate
From sunsets past to dawns of latitude
It’s morning for the easiest delight
‘Hush now she said, follow your bliss’.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Colourful-Morning-380633944

There Are Accomplished Facts of Living in the Present

(One of them is Love)

All day long in spring and song
We lived in eternity’s day
All day long in dew and wind
We lived in summer’s hour of infinity
Against Paradise we stood
Hand in hand, heart to heart
For waves and love and festivity
We lived in eternity’s presence
All day long in joy and mimicry
We called it the Beloved present

It was an accomplished fact
That we decided to Fall in Love

A first outburst of the new dawn
Our very own special New World
All day long we talked and made love
We lived in eternity’s day
All day long in sunlit drapes and fugitive steps
We traced Taiwanese wilderness
In Montreal streets, circling the planet
Against Paradise we touched and ate
Hand in hand, heart to heart
All day long in summer’s hour of infinity

It was an accomplished fact
That we decided to Fall in Love.