Spring’s Blue Sky Pales to Lemon

Spring’s Blue Sky Pales to Lemon

These days are fresh
Like being washed in May
I’m the smell of Tulips

Sunshine pours the Spring into me
I’m cleaved by bright light
And water is my jewel of skin
I am greenish-white in youth
The day is too lovely to bear

I’m walking down it
With a high blue sky to stare
And I have an audience

With beautiful people
Near me, walking passed me
I’m at the breakfast table
Of life, wished well with
Tendering tastes and smells and colors

The fresh-washed sunlight
Is cooking happiness in me
My heart a warm glad clap

Of coffee-cup stream
A thin spiral of cathedral liquid stained
Reflections on my body
Speaking yellow, green and blue
I skid the dust and wind that flirts

With bare ankles and the water-cart
Of bodies, fresh from their
Crimson split sighs of coming out

At the tap-tap of the season
Jarring jasmine above rose-coloured skirts
The flesh that rings the quiet and the high
Nature’s fresh-washed air of clean
Feeling midday flares, the shudder

Of blurring pleasure with nameless joys
This is it, gold blind tips of context
Floods of flame for new bodies

The flesh cascading again eddies of light
That quiver, drop and smile
Till the unruffled night plans a gleam
Of electric signals and tantalizes
The sound of wind in trees

The city alive with tulips bare-breasted
With the buds and flowers
That are so tranquil and friendly.

As for the Sun

Sun Worship

There is still a reverence
Of sun-worship left in me
Nourishing the seasons, patient golden clime
Lovely Goddess of yellow

Call God’s country everywhere
Without stars where would we be?
Not in the office of harvests
Not in the countries of Green

The sun’s rising never fails
Her setting is an indie-gleam
She’s all the states, all the royals
Of nature’s supremacy everywhere

The sun gives all a portion
Of the universe, in the eye
On the skin, and it’s a golden bridge
To beauty, warmth, life-force

This bed thy center, galactic truce
That I would swim from sun to sun
In overwhelming heat of youth.

Dilating Suns that Blur the Spring #Poetry #NaPoWriMo

Stripped of Myself

Oh, the pleasure is in peace
In flowers for the spring
In the rain’s soft offering

And hours of flight and calm
The uncertain harvest of nature
About to get into full bloom

That’s beauty, anticipation
Of perfect trees and dilating suns
And stars lost in their orchard of lights

The suddenness of God
As if reserved for only
A few days a year,

In this mortality
Nature is divine
And I am sacred too

O to behold the ghosts
Of love when nothing else is known
And beauty, when truth

No longer has the power
To rectify a life.
Stripped, I’m starting to
Float free, an unleafed
Orphan, a heart
Broken until this moment
I know nothing about
Giving myself back to life.

Easily a fortunate pilgrim

At evening the silver complaint
Of the stars gives the sky texture
Winter weans itself off of cold hurt
And Spring begins to carry its weight
With her old songs through the weeks
Dying not in the fields, but spreading
Until everything sings her white face
A wedding of heaven and earth
Turning civilization into future valley
And frozen wastes into fluent flowers
Our species is not even old
But the gold sun never falters
And our memory is smoothly rippled
With Earth’s eyelids, sun breaks, coastal views
Under these arches of heaven we must
Make do, with the prosperity given to us.

The Sea

The Sea speaks to me
I come from the Ocean
She is singing eternally
Her green light in my eyes
Her blue waves from
Which all life came

Water the symbol of life
And a certain gift
Of forgetfulness
Nothing is separate
In the sea of the universe
And it washes away the past

Like sand castles
And approaches a holy communion
Where we are all grains
Of sand in time, similar and temporary
There human beings can
Forget their occupations and limits

These pieces of identity
That are so fragile
Only a perfect freedom
In the womb of the Earth
Melting into water I am
No longer who I was

I become rhythms of ancient times
I become pleasure across
Horizons, one with the world
No longer incidental but infinite
The Sea speaks of the
Fabric of life, feminine and cyclic

The dehumanized part of me
Finds healing there, at last
The cities never showed me
Innocence, or true strength
Only man-made ignorance
I come from the Ocean

She sang to me of the true journey
Where death is the release
From a tormented mind
And suffering body
I wish to find the naked horizon
That no longer has a need
For words or anxiety
But can breath as a free spirit
And move without self-definition.

Nature 520:1

For I know the plans I have for you
Said Nature, to the beast
On whatever star, of artificial or organic
Intelligence, your design is place

Where energies collide
Plans to prosper and plans not
To harm you, and your descendants
Will be good and just

Plans to give you hope and a future
Taste and see that Nature is good
Blessed are those who follow her laws
And those who hope in the stars

Will renew their strength and soar
Like miracles from their Earths
They will walk on strange worlds
And not faint, for they will be

Custodians of life, protecting, nurturing
As was their true purpose, as they
Once were by me, Said Nature
As the home star burst forth, a red nothing.

Anthem & Alchemy

So this was Earth
Handfuls of light
Europe on reverb
Beaches covered with
Ancient jars like

Star-shells fragrant
With some golden empire
From which they came
I saw young bodies
Throbbing breasts

Heart-beats of infinity
Shells rose-pink
A blur of traffic
So this was Evolution
In the minds of

Organics where
Drifted thoughts
Of arms spread open
For the coupling of desire
These youth who

Would one day pair off
And the sky’s veins
Would not recall
Who was with who
Or how children came

Each has no handles
The waves touch
The pebbles each time
They curl on to the shore
Like time, formed by clay

They gather tools to
Change themselves
Civilized barbarians
Becoming barbaric once again
So this was Earth

I’d heard the stories
Souls that could not
Be unmade, they learned
And grew somehow
In a software of

Reincarnation, I knew
Their minds emptied
Death was beautiful
A simple reset and
And the slaughter of

Selfishness, what a sight
Wheat doesn’t take long
To ripen, sex doesn’t
Take long to become
But a whisper in a life

Desires melt away
Attachments drift
Hopes once so vital
Seemed secondary
Each dream separately

Lulled, like the birds
Who cry at morning
Going quiet, at the coming
Of the Sun, it was
Just natural, and perfect.

Hero of Midnight

November is a solemn sentence
on my tongue, the fabric of scarcity
an interior intonation of the hermitage
before the hibernation, and winter
where so many soul-thoughts drift

like empty shells of the past
and i know from previous experience
the freedom freeze as soon as
your dignity is taken away, like
trying to live in poverty or to exist

when lovers and friends have abandoned you
for whatever superficial reason
that move people to be disloyal
the stern voice of necessity has never
been louder for me, in my psyche

where economic conditions have become
how the bell tolls for me, and how
the labour inflicts me with dread
longer and later, as if, the lilacs
on the other side might never open

In late march or april when the fever
rejoices after the long-cold suffering
the rich earth purified by her rituals
might once again know the candor of spring
and the touch of sunlight, not to be seen
for these harsh weeks, the depths of solitude.

Solar immersion

I heard it, shining across the other side of the sky
it was light and wavy and generated
a physics seen and unseen to the naked eye
it was the star’s color, the cosmos’s immortality
waving hello being tenderly stroked
by the seeming finger tips of earth
clouds the color of silver evening
have you ever seen anything in your life
more wonderful, floating across
horizons after days, after years so relaxed and easy
free as a sea that never melts in her own destiny
red flower of worshipers, morning power
of a thousand symmetrical perfect distances
the sun, have you felt felt anything like it
against your skin like a fiery atom of Agni
O’, not I, it’s the warmth of all living
it’s the empty handed everything at the
seat of your belly, it’s the last star of light
that’s intimate, it’s the color of light of home.

WHEN WILL I be able to RETURN?

After the long escort, now we part
What mixes all the days together
Gifted us this human world of togetherness
Green mountains: sweet fragrance
In each region, you are eulogised and cherished
Divinity happy in the heart, in a world
Of water and crystal and tranquil space
Nature walked with me, I was never alone
Golden orioles flit across the beams
Walking by flowers that smile like poems
Bright cotton floats in the air, like summer-snow
By the river’s talents at dawn’s friendship
I face a mural of living grace, breathing pockets
Of the splendid incense of shinning water
Yellow and red dirt seems right at place there
Paths and trails, rosy dawns of new lives
How can I be upset to grasp what’s hot?
Summer, spring and autumn mix in me
Myriad blossoms press the branches low
How I admire the river’s blue, the bird a perfect white.

PASSAGE AT OLD NORTH AMERICA

When it rains and the trees seem to divide
I hear the Sea, and Heroes multiply
The storm before the calm
The promises made to be Happy

Sulking the sanctioned sun lifts
Her head, of golden-rose
And Moonlit congregations of
Midnight roses follow our steps

Across the fields, like years
And summers burn our will into acceptance
And love molds our cheeks
With Bronze conformity, time

Has a way of making us timid or cautious
Here learning to smile more tamely
In slow-motion, transience is justified
By our few years of rebellion

That came and went like dandelions
And all the pollen that rests in the Sea
When I hear it rain, it all comes
Rushing back to me, under a constant

Wonder of melodic eyes, the evening
Was a spear in the ravine and sunset
An abyss of beauty beyond comprehension.

YOUTH WHITE AS DEATH

i

Light drips from your face
This is your true element
Rainbow skin glowing of youth
I could look at you a long time
Wonder about your genes
Laid on a canvas of flesh
Created for beauty’s own rite

ii

Lips with the hue of the dawn
Eyes the color of lost Oceans
Pushed into the scene
Your necessary breasts that heave
As you breathe, your bud and bloom
The thick rapture of your hips
Whole biographies swim in your movement
Swallowed are the appetites of this world

iii

The temporary triumph of homo-sapiens
Over this dreary planet of deconstruction
All for the certainty that you can melt men
From ancient Egypt to New America
This is your true element
Women knitted in breathless years
That spread difficult ordinary happiness

iv

With just a look, between the years
Of seventeen and twenty-three
Six years of sacred shine my soul wheeled back in time
For your body the gold in my ears got hot
Miraculously kept in its essentials
Your skin radiated something that slipped through:
Fertility, as a necessity of life.

SUMMER

Summer was another country of forever beauty
That stretched out with a touch
Of air on flesh that was lighter
Than the sweet approval of the Trees
For the light and the breath that was the light

Tasting the sunlit juice of forever beauty
It felt like Spring had harvested
An outrageous beauty of
Landscapes folded in a surreal single voice
The music of a world of forever more
That seemed to adapt to everything

A dynamic return of the divine metropolis
Summer was the Capital of everything I knew
From the fragrance of flowers to the
Moment’s spell of where Spring first became Summer
Summer kept a hundred candles lit
Each time I stepped out into the Sun.

THE LAMP OF EXHILARATION

i

Spring, your grass is longer until June
I can sense Summer further than the Birds
An unobtrusive transformation
Of flowers, gradual perfection of Grace
Regardless of our minor tragedies

ii

Nature, this pensive custom of
Cycles outlasts all change
She carries enlarging loneliness
Making the youth hunt friendship
The heat beneath burning Noons
Makes us sweat for tomorrow

iii

Nature drips sunsets and drapes
The future, across a vistas of Yearning
Passion as the seed the Wizard Sun
Creatures following the mirth
Of the hand of evolution, the eyes

iv

Of the erotic energy of time
Dare I say I felt the lip of the flamingo
The wind does not require grass
But prefers it as I do, the colors
All end in green, and the wisdom
Of the light that never asks questions.

MOBS OF EYEBALLS NEGOTIATE THE SPRING

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

SPRING FABLE

Berries are sure to redden on
The body of whiteness, entry of Spring
White shadows will collide
Drunk with the juice of Moonlight

Life will explode from the bony Mother
Earth will weep rivers, fountains, lakes
Birds will build fortresses
Time will drag a harmony of balanced ruling

Promising a silence as deep as the source
Buds will drift up the Great goddess stems
Flowers will steer countries to sunsets
Blue water-mists will flash by naked

Startling fishermen, colors will
Taint the margins of everything old
Owls give way to Peacocks
Midnights to quivering fields

Berries are sure to redden
On the fertile mounts of Spring.

Birds of Earth

I listened to the birds
And they spoke to me with counting breaths
With a beat of wings and color’s snare

I felt them disband
Into the caravan of night
I was a part of this
And they, were a part of me

Morning of the birds
And a county of the Spring
Their songs still sing in me

Like ancient figures of speech
Feathers of Earth, dream of eyes
Everything in history is part of us.

Supramental Sun Language

Sunset mine, you are not mine A land not mine, still This Sun where I was born Floating as if forever in golden-orange Forever memorable, these bright rays That flower on my chest Tuck under my ribs Giving heat to …

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 …

Winter Camped Under Various Stars

Come winter with your
Dry months of cold winds
I will take you in my room tonight
Lay you down where the Moon holds

Gray laurels and champagne for one
Graft your stony roots of granite
To my weary bones that sing
Of crystal towers, and eucalyptus trees

And frozen over rivers of marble piazzas
Let me watch the crowds and
Children with rosy cheeks
And that I’ve heard the lament of the land

So vast and so white, in the stillness
Of a silence that is the breath of night
Come winter, with your
Cascades of lovely snow, frozen councils
Basilicas of frothy twigs waiting for spring.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/winter-s-fairytale-303358298

City Without a Name of Winter

Watching the crowds in their dark jackets
I can tell that winter is on its way
There are no grey laurels left
We just wait for first snow
It will seem beautiful then, novel

As it traces our footsteps
In a frothy whiteness of magical grafts
Marrying concrete with the skies
You will have parts of the world
Unmelted by sunrise, just a snow-covered

Precipice of cold, we endure this
With a voluntary patrol of visible breath
Under my breast and belly I feel grateful
To have a woman at my fire
It’s the pulse of the earth I miss the most

In those harsh winter months
The smiles and small laughter of spring
It’s a city without a name that freezes
So many people more sad without the sun
I can tell that winter is on her way again

Like minerals that forget to sound their last trumpet
My blood will not freeze, I will walk on.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-139159678

Children from Africa

Radiant like yellow rock
Beneath the clear skies of four-square purity
I wait, by the coasts emptying
Myself of summer, the karma

Passing from me like a world
Of bright flickers and whispers
I want freshness, the love that separates
Sun from night, time from self

To build an Eden from green leaves
The foliage of belonging that reaches
Past all temporary acts, perceived turmoil
I search for rhythms of the forest

Through light, burning on the water
My ears trance-like and open to
The liquid wings of silence and words
On both sides.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Coast-of-Wonders-58617903

Beholding the Lovely body of a Sunbeam

I yearn for completion
In the abstract tapestries
A beauty as soft as music, as wood

That sends a freshness
against the waves
of lights from a distant region

of the Universe, the shape
A new measure of mind
I yearn for completion

In truth and beauty
Of another world, with
The fragrance of unbroken springtime!

I yearn for some language of substance
Beyond the biological cravings
of flesh, sniffing twilight

the pangs of the hot heart
Which hunts the barrens
For some savage harvest
Beyond color, above sound.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/glade-nik-II-409224733

Art is my Self-Giving Friend

My Art is no art
It is the simple flowing
Of my humble being
I sit in a mood of reverie
Desires and sensations beautified

I subscribe to beauty
For a version in harmony
For a way out of suffering
Art strums completion
By thriving creativity in life

When I paint or draw or write
I am playing mysticism
In my private dream world
This hide-and-seek suggests
My soul illuminates with nature

Let me submit to art
Blending impressions without a name
For the sake of distinct
Eternal memories that are replayed
In every artist-painter-poet-writer’s soul.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Cold-summer-morning-408822206

Force for Union

With the pulse of night
I will enact in us, the first movement –
We will slip and flood and
Perhaps embrace, an act of union

To-night, a bit like all nights
With the necessity of being passionate
Culminating in our inexorable care
I am still imperially strong & male

With a colony of youth still bursting within
And senses to witness your body
Even if I have grown older, my brain
Carries with it a legacy of evolution

An act that sprouts so unilaterally free
The rendering of procreation
In a process of beating at your borders
Fluid across your waters, with treaties of peace
Ready to build colonies through caresses of skin.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/milos-island-a-different-world-404266901

Autumn Festival of Dawns

I have kissed the Autumn dawn
laughed at the blond of her lips
running beneath the orange finger-tipped red
half-moon, the vital breath

of silver summited dew glistening
on the stones of marble
the damp violets enslaving conclusions
of winter’s breath over the last butterflies

I have kissed the meadows of october
laughed at the clouds dissolving
through a pillar of the treasured-sun
running through the breeze against

the memories of a few dozen autumns
it all comes first circle as life dissolves
but beauty remains a poor man’s dream
it comes every Autumn like an old traveler
ready to submit to red and gold.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Home-is-where-the-love-is-403015730

Winter

Winter
How long have we known each other?
On the ground
Bare and with throaty snow
Flakes to fall on my stubble

Of all the aches I held dear –
Dragging your silver-shine
Through long hard months
Of the northern-land
Into apparent hibernation

Winter
You know my white shield
Of my held heart
Like a held-hand
Of another’s inner-spring
I sell my cattle
To eat my plants for another day
Teas that light me up from the inside

Winter
Breaking thin branches
I know your cloudy days
Won’t last forever, just an empty space
In my memory
As if I were snapped from my roots with ice
My foundations of rock
Glowing thick with harvests of water
That will trickle down
Into a luscious spring-bed.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-139159678

An open Autumn Day

Autumn leaves lie strewn in October
With the hopes of childhood’s day
That are now so faded and decayed
Happy moments fled, do they come again?
Forgotten, changed or dead –?

All over the gardens shrink
Memories impress with their wild colors
Birds sing with buried scents under wings
Honey is made, above where children play
Autumn leaves lie strew in October

Corn, watermelons and pumpkin pie
The fruit must be kept for another day
Autumn is the season where I cannot forget
What came in Spring and blossomed in Summer
Autumn is the secret I can never tell –

With the hopes of dreams treasured beyond all
The dark of the gentle winds that blew
Behind Autumn rain, a new world breaks forth.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/autumn-328739751

This Soil Spilt Through My Hands

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

A Breath in Snow

As I walk up the rise into the silence of snow
I bear witness to transparent snowflakes
The bright falling breaths of our shallow lives

The paper tissues that dabs the dips of fate
The snow is deaf and blue and white
It licks the oxygen from the brittle ground

Swishing your lips is your remedy
For that whistle in your hollow chest
Our body is a blanket of snow for winter

Our body has been all the seasons
Of water, stuttering down the miles
The swollen river of all nestled and snapping things

I suck air back into the spanking sea-breeze
Of the twisted motionless spitting paths of winter
A sky flipped open for our shared afternoons
With no scratchings, only the rustling of an emptied hope.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/snow-75022732