Variations of a beauty lover


The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That’s what poetry does.
~ Allen Ginsberg

66

I’ve made liquid nicknames for
the incomparable feelings of Earth
the peculiar surrealism of suffering

a dance of cycles and poverty in seasons
and prosperity in that experience of lack?
organic and passionate, thriving
in pure obscurity, that is the dilemma

there is no fame in doing what you love
only the pure satisfaction of being
connected to something larger than yourself

I’ve made friends with stars, books
as if I could plagiarize memories
like some ethical problem of the future
you tell me beauty is copyrighted?

I’ve charted universes in your eyes
thriving with an open soul for higher realms
of wisdom, disguised as a psalmist

I’ve seen the vital sources where destiny
Is drawn like a paradox of passion
I’ve seen the gracious gluttony
where we swallow our fate whole

only to arrive at a kind of handwriting
of who we were meant to be all along….
I’ll just keep living in that funeral free harmony

of inner renaissance, the piecemeal moments
of genius, where I am in perfect peace
with my creativity, fatherless, childless
but free, with a right to personal magic.

Art Credit to: http://www.deviantart.com/art/mermaid-tattoo-469620382

THE DAWN SINGERS


25

After all these collisions
with the abrupt license to write
these dreamy plagiarisms
as if words belonged to a mouth
the month of poetry became

a lifetime of habit, a sport
of inarticulate genius
of hope strewn in museums
blue transparent halls of journals
I still mutter quietly

spells for sweet memories
grasping at disappearing truths
i contemplate language, the soul
of symbols, the spirit behind a tongue
the last word i said

The word is Yes, yes to
white fragile voices
that linger for a while
these lyrics that spin
until loving is not enough

it must be written down
as if for eternity
the profound nature of saying
I will live forever trapped
on a page for you or nobody to read

smuggling lanterns as ancient as the seas
across the myths I once believed
were real, the news of my country
the land of my being
and the solace of my art

i’m proud to be trapped here
soon i will no longer have a voice.

Photo Courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/dawn-46952780