The Kali Matrix

The Kali Matrix

I’m ready to be defeated now
To have the courage to change
That in risking something, I might gain
And by gaining, I might learn

For to be reciprocal with life
I have to learn how to better give
And I’m ready to make errors, make mistakes
And if that means I’ll face my fears

I would like to lose everything
I once held dear, to be able to
Overcome the psycho-motivational resistance
For me to become what I am capable

I won’t use up my creativity
I’m ready to innovate on a whole new level
And entirely adapt to a new world
That is being built beyond our senses

It’s a digital internet of things
And I believe if we are to be part of the future
We have to become accomplished at something
That we truly love, there is no other option

Doing something well, and living for something
That’s the difference in being
A follower and an entrepreneur
Leadership is the authenticity and courage to follow
The inner compass, no matter the odds.

The Untold Stories

Our flesh is hectic and heretic
Burning in the torch of our evolution
Our wombs are wild fruit
Ready to curve and churn and reap
Our fevers have not renounced
Our heart has not tasted lunch
I am the starved and curveless moon
I am skin and bone and loveless lessons
My body is a probe of dream
Ready to burst ribs and ejaculate
To sensually encapsulate descendents
And warm the wide waves of evermore
Our flesh is hot with snippets of sweat
Our blood is tainted and anorexic
Our hope is in the body, in the children
Primal like a tattoo of our youthful selves
These days are done, the drums have gone
Our breasts are shrived like the autumn leaves
And our past pain lies now in our hips
The hips we will break one careless evening
And we won’t grow up then, we will
Die in a hospital in the forked dark.

Immigrants to Shared Language

Eun Ji, through you I kissed
The Dreamtime of common language
Not Korean, I only wish I knew

The melodic meaning behind those terms
Or the cartoony cute reverent figures that is Korean
Some far-fetched video-game looking script

I say it all, as a poem I wanted to show someone
In the gravity of their blog, their small snippets
Of social media performance, with only a hint

***

At the grave, private, intense character beneath
I chose to follow you in half-blotted darkness
In the crevices between greetings to the moon

And chilled reminders of who we are
In the post-modern deconstructionism of our times
In the academic wanderings of the MFA-prototype

The studious academic workaholic woman
And how to draw a circle around such a speaker
And what secrets might be locked in-between

***

Her sentences, like rugged wounds left there to heal
I am like a fabled half man, half dragon
Chasing the poetess across Taoist distances

Where even in Korean memory it took shape beneath
Time and I got lost in the middle of nowhere
But that somewhere was always with you

And our final notions are rarely our final resting places
Though it touches you through your ribs
Like diamond memories so transparent

Tough and delicate are the intimate seasons
That gives us not enough time to whisper
To the invisible spirit that drives us

***

Relentlessly as if to accomplish novels and books
We required some champion of inspiration
Tragic in the anonymity of the performance

As if I’ve reached for your lines (I have)
Beyond experience, or from alternative universes
An anomaly of letters that strike the dead

In the thirst of the living, in the throats
That beg for water, for the magical language
As a pilot might touch your finger in the dark

***

To find fresh-drawn poetic language
That composes itself with petals and sun-beds
To blunder over literature and those golden lamps

We are prospective immigrants ready
To land into the prosperity of language
Even if we do not speak the same tones

You make no promises in your infrequent correspondences
And there is risk I’ve remembered you
Without enough light to enter the windows.

To Leave this life so Shattered

To Leave this life so Shattered

Eun Ji, before I die, let there be no mistake
I will be nothing, as autumn leaves

So burning with color they require oblivion
Of the ground to become all colors
Before I die I need to be a soul

That allows every secret in
Every nervous prayer to rush and transform

The inner-state, a mediumship of
Identity, empathy and moreover, identification
It’s the process of identification

That I really find so key, like the pull
Of the moon on the eyes

And the refreshing vistas of the stars
On a tame trusting heart like mine!
Before I die, let me be absolutely clear

I want to love the world so much
That I wake music in the bones of the dead

And carry with me a few minutes of
Such an utter beauty, I won’t be able to transport
Myself back to the mundane routines

There solitude will be my refuge
In a cocoon of our grand unity

And I’ll keep the safety of futurity
That does not require a past to change
The shooting stars don’t decide to shine

They just point the way, to heartbeats
And tears, and to the place where
I can build a spiritual shelter
and pay my rent in poems and silent anniversaries.

Reconnaissance

Reconnaissance

The only way I could
Make love to you was through poetry
Everything else was forbidden
We were spirits in transit

At the ends of nostalgia
Ready to be idealistic again
And yet one arrives somehow
For dance lessons, a psychological encounter

In the strange bedroom
Of intimate dialogue
And it occurred to me
I’d never know you completely

I’d project and I’d compensate
And I’d only reach a part of you
That was, how it was with language
All these approximations

Emotions that go three ways
Timing that is rarely serendipitous
So I followed your lead
Not knowing the name of the bud

Where I would hold your flower
In its sweet smell of soulful freedom
And let nature suck me in
To her passionate eternity.

Dream Songs (Sydney Edition)

Dream Songs (Sydney Edition)

If you were to write a dream song
Of our journey, your ideal life & occupation
Where would you be standing?

Who would be witnessing your life?
Would you have a daughter
And what would be your horizons?

And in the inner resources
Of your destiny, how would you
Drag authenticity out of the labour
We ourselves who flash and yearn

To be other than the roles we play
We’ve taken upon ourselves to survive
While forgetting how to
Recreate ourselves sand thrive

We were once so keen to self-actualize
But youth, like a valiant piece of art
Is sometimes forgotten in the
Great literature of the struggle

Of our personal narrative
It does not mean we no longer dream
But don’t revisit the old dreams
Maybe it’s time to create new dreams
From the plights & gripes of fate

To churn the alchemy (repeatedly)
To ever confess new boundaries
Of what we allow ourselves to attain.

Spring Tingle

Spring Tingle

I touched a seed of spring in glory’s afternoon
It was made of pure light
The souls of May looked happy
Before new buds took flight
And saw the fertile Moon a crescent hung
I did not speak but stopped to pray
To life, and nodded, to wistful stars
With the full humility of arrogance
I was glad to be alive so
I was captured by a moment in Spring
Immortalized with the sensuality
I too could feel the wombs of flowers
And be moved like the pangs of the young.

A Window Into your Soul #amwriting #poem #NationalPoetryMonth #eroticverse

A Window Into your Soul

My dear, you take pleasure in the face
With a thirst I cherish of cherry grasping
And you are not dead yet, so I chew
On the heart of your chiselled femininity
Where I want to wet your lips

With all the water of the meadows
And drown in the melodies of your tongue
And elevate your heart-rate with
The kiss that can intoxicate from deep down
And I will stumble O’ so dizzy

Into your heart like a green room spinning
And then our veins will hum in sweet-madness
And the fire that burns inside of you
Will erupt in a soft gold glowing
Of all the sunsets we ever wanted to drink

And your skin will explode with my
Deep throbbing, and we will gesture
At the universe together in sweet knowing
Our time here is precious and our
Pleasures are on the same journey

So taste the wonder with me
Taste it like a window to your soul
I want to hear your grateful surrender
And feel your body quiver
Never minding the naked protocol

Of how our appetites work best for each other
Or how our hunger is a broken rule.

Verse Unfettered and Let Free #NaPoWriMo

Verse Spread-Eagled

I write to constantly risk
Absurdity, my performance
Is to a future audience
Not yet born, I do acrobatics

Of my inner life for the
Balancing of beauty’s eyebeams
I look at every face I meet

The slight-of-hand of intimacy
To empathize with their dreams
We are all busy making mistakes
Surrealists in our own gravity

Our soul weds magical realism
Each time we make new goals
We are constantly projecting

Ourselves into the future
In death-defying leaps
I write poetry not to be somebody
It’s spread-eagled in the empty air

Of the silence I worship
It dies as soon as it’s born
Existence organic for the bliss

Of a few drops of eternity
That’s my life in a nutshell
My poems only follow me.

Into the Cosmos

Into the Cosmos

Behind me, where all the stars are shown
I’m nobody, but a flower of immortality
Across the night-blue space
Eternity collects her wears

Married to an immense unknown
Myself, well I’m a term in-between
Wondering about the cosmic laws
Death is but a drift in my eastern gray

And when confronted in silence face to face
I can’t help but wonder, how small the
Things of man, how dissolved the next dawn
How ludicrous to care so much

For dreams of dreams that do not last
O I’ve been a doubter of the light
In perfect pauseless monarchy
But the night is a beauty that marches on

A dateless dynasty of what comes next
And that’s the duplicate divinity
In a world sown so fast by history
A couple more decades, centuries

And the heart of the cosmos, may find us there
To bring miracles before women
And say that midnight is a place we’ve been
And that, we can innovate
The good that is the True.

Intelligence

Intelligence

Maybe my brain is made
Mostly by evolution
A silver spirit hung

The lovely ghost in the machine
Like the way I feel about
The future, the spiritual
Mystical connection with all

Living things, its patient
And not yet downloadable
Though I know it’s made

For wonderful things yet
And has permission to roam
In pure wonder, peaceful grounds
Where politics does not interfere

It’s private at least, in part
Maybe my brain is not made
Of light or pure music

But I perceive in my time
Enough beauty and truth to
Recognize my brain as a mirror
Soft and warm, like an embrace

In the design of snowflakes
And in the poverty of the worlds
Existence always feel fresh

With the improbabilities of tomorrow
So many algorithms, frames
Of reference, crucial variables;
My brain eats big data for breakfast

And loves the galaxy like
An ancient connoisseur.

And he felt the air reopen, and the pain was glad

on an incredibly clear day
my petty self-centered wounds
dissolved like butter

and I discovered a great secret
what may well be the great mystery
the kind you wish you had known

when you suffered worse
I saw that there is no
desire truly worth pursing

for these gratifications are like
echoes of lack in our chest
the burning of freedom in our chest

our drama is moreover, inconsequential
to the greater dilemmas of the species
and to the plight, no less

of the less fortunate
for one is not loved as one is born, necessarily
but it may happen that one is

lucky or unlucky, and it’s not better
to be one or the other
but to have our share of both

and to suffer is as natural
as baking bread or walking through dew
and I hope it doesn’t take

an especially clear day
to realize the obvious once again
though knowing me, and how

tiny my love is, I may have to
remind myself many moons from now
why the bright sunlight heals.

Re-Statement of Nudity

The nudity of our innermost selves
That’s the kind of transparency
The new world brings, where
Algorithms study us while we sleep

Self-knowledge is machine-learning assisted
And all that remains concealed
Are the illusions we have
Of ourselves, the myths we created

To cope, or because we could not learn
How to adapt to the new trends
But nakedness, it’s psychological isn’t it?
And in our humanity, what do we

Have to fear? We are just ordinary
Bottom matter, organic programs
That insinuate romance upon mating-administrative rights
And create war on others organics

For the profit of a few, and this
Will come to pass, but nakedness
Digital nudity, that’s the shape
Of the new world now being born.

The Brave Sun

The Brave Sun

This Brave sun

That fell from the sky

In gold and silver time

Never to leave

Through gloomy times

Always coming back

Never staying way

Never saying goodbye

That was important

These good stars

That never don’t shine

In the dark, that was

Important to my night

The meditation of light

That never had to

Say a word, but only

Do what it was meant

To do, to create and perform

To light up the world

That was enough

This Brave Sun.

Our eyes Closed

Art by Agnes Cecil

With eyes closed you
Light up within like a candle
Of my spirit, last wings
First faith, hushed tones
Of your divine laughter

I could taste
The melody of your smiles
The vast twinkle in your
Majestic eyes, squinted by nature
Night after night we make art

In a carving all our own
A sculpture of the
Things we say when intimate
It’s a narrative of
Just knowing each other

Together and separately
A harmony of eyes closed
With a total security of
Being there, the turquoise of time
May blast the winds, but you

Still light up within when you sleep
Like a smiling infant
Dreaming of something good.

Aphorisms trapped in Time

Love in its highest form
Is compassion, what is compassion?
It is an empathy without returns
To everyone, for whatever

Burdens they bear and misfortune
For life can be unfortunate
Love plus meditation for everyone
Is not very complicated

That is why the sages are simple
That it why the Tao begins
And ends with nothing
Silence is the state to receive

Compassion from the universe
If you can learn silence
You can hear the highest phenomenon
Love is not asking for something

In return, the sheer joy of giving
Love is not a desire to possess another
But a joy in serving them
How to serve all creatures with
Compassion, that is a life work.