But With a Fraction of the Love

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve felt my life

In the murmur of a bee

And felt all my tears

 

In the eminence of a nest

And the daffodils blew color

Covert as April, or candid as May

I took my time to age and my time

Was plenty, in the solitude

 

Of antiquity, forgetting for answering

Only questions, guided me

At the breaking of the day

 

Where golden drops spawned

Longer looks and deeper searching

All for something immaterial

There is a flower which no longer blooms

It’s in my heart or should I say, it was

 

It’s gentle romance led me on

In the chivalry of my subjective warmth

Where I was not alone, nor humming birds left

 

The measures of days were not my smiles

My splendour was meagre, my heart

Was the moistness of oxygen

In your lungs, the breath that kept you sane

When life was a tyranny of choice until

 

There was none left and freedom hung

Like a low hanging fruit, of what our lives had become.

 

The Birds know How to be Brave

Return of the Canvasser of Birds

Though its song evokes joy
The birds of spring are not so different
Than us, they need new life
Welcome change, cherry blossoms
They insinuate what we already know
The waxing of Moons led to this

Where the stories swell over
Brimming with what
Survives the storms
And follows you home
To the fire, where you are safe
A bird’s song washes away

The bad memories, like rain
In April, the distance of dividing
Your golden moments into a person
For a silver care to serve that person
Each time you fall in love, you leave
A bit of your dreamy youth behind
And the song of birds evokes

The oracle’s voice, the prophet-time
The bud in you that refuses to
Bloom ever as fully as you know
You are capable, happiness is relative
We share a table at spring with visitors
Visitors that we have been waiting for
As if all winter, our cycles admire us

They visited our ancestors
And have returned to kiss us gently.

Experience in perihelion

Violets, doves, girls, bees
And oh, hyacinths
Are inconstant objects
With an inconstant cause

So floods the springs
It must change, face
To face, epoch to epoch
Thought to thought

Year to year, swollen
With the mutability of life
Energy in a universe
Of light pushing the pace

The heroic part is not
Surviving it all, it’s
To learn to let go
The major abstraction

Is not to plan for a future
But to transcend the idea
Of being ready for a future
That is always just an

Illusion of what today is
The partners leave, the kids
They grow up, the money
Separates from your fingers

The memories grow exotic
Life bleeds a final elegance
In how quickly it leaves
The beating heart, the candles
That went out in the rain.

Untitled but Free

“People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.”
― Søren Kierkegaard

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Restless-Drifter-Polaroid-2-474325733

You say the wind is only wind
And blood is only blood
That human life is not to blame

For the balances nature makes
But I have seen the deadliest
And I have carried the doom
In my mouth, though my soul
Praises strangest joys of

Unextinguished gratitude and
Secrets of hope, I’ll stay a while
To see how the future coaxes

This world, you say our flesh
Breathes and is alive, I’ll show you
Artificial neurons, these microchips
That mimic the human brain
It’s all a matter of design, who

Will live and who will die
You say the wind is only wind
You say these eyes are only eyes

But I’ve lived on hundreds of worlds
And I’ve seen visions of the end of times
We’re all synapses for some kind of intelligence
All nodes in a spiritual web of dreams
Whose multitudes make up reality

Tell the moths and the seasons
That they are not programs, that they too
Have free-will, but I’ve never

Seen a river lose its course
Not to join itself again, I’ve never
Seen a Sun die before its time.

At The Hinge of All My Days

If I shouldn’t be alive –
Let others do, what I could not
Let them not save me
Any memorial crumbs

Our stories are all retold
Again and again, like being fast
Asleep and dreaming life
Our lives, they come and go

So quickly, if I should die tomorrow
Perhaps I will have been asked
To go abroad, to some further star –
And there I shall take compact Sunshine

With me, my first well Day in ages
If I shouldn’t be alive –
Let poets rise from every circumstance
Uncertain of themselves, so –

We all cheat ourselves, dropping
Threads of our youthful dreams
We conform to routine lives
If I shouldn’t be alive –

Maybe it is for the best?
To fade into tomorrow with
Rainbows held, like brief recompense.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-Spices-412283366

I Admonish Thee

Hope is the circumference of life
Faith is the circle of the fall
Creation the mighty exponent of
Oxygen and water, blood and time

History notes love is posterior
To fate, that seal of light
That spreads what we were
And mixes it with the cycles
*
That never stop, only recede to start again
Revelation cannot end with
Going blind, we learn to listen
Silence is the jewel of posterity

The future, the brimming Deity in our eyes
Perhaps we ask too large a place
No less to explore the furthest skies
Hope remains the circumference
*
Faith ends all beliefs of smaller bundles
Creation the happening where we exist
Open to all accidents of loss
Yes, oxygen, water, blood, time
These too will be taken away.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/autumn-sun-402106762

An Old Grace of New Subjects

Always mine & never mine
Ah the joys of experience
A weary vacation in living

Among forms, new Subjects
Every Dawn, it seems is a first
Seasons of the Sun I once knew –

Terms of light and days begun
Failless is the loving rotation
Always mine & never mine

Happiness in a cycle
Of water, earth, blood and love
Faultless, each indeed in rightful places
What is your purple program?

Cycles of the Clear Bright

The cities will be ruined
And what will remain will be
Heavy dew, thick mist, dense grass
Fields, far as roads once ruled

The drunken parties of men will be gone
Fled into the fifth watch of
Galaxies, tunnelling into oblivion
Somewhere near the speed of light

Passing are all ruined palaces
Empires will crumble, as if gladly
To make way for the new
The coasts will swallow peninsulas

The skies will perform cleaning
Volcanoes will erupt
And broken gates will ease in
New wild gardens, waterfalls

Over bridges, time renews all
Life does not question, she moves
While we rest in moments of snow
Beneath migrating rains

The gravestones of Earth will be hidden
Only the voice of screeching owls
Will remind the lantern light
Of Nine Spring mornings
What all was once, can be again.