Unread Lyric on a Grave #poetry #wordsmatter

Unread Lyric on a Grave

If there is a melody of all
Our lives came to
Beneath the gulls of the years

I would know if, through burning love
An echo of you remains
In the dark house abandoned
In the silent grave unvisited
In poetry books burned

I would steal a bit of love left over
From so many lives, from so many nights
Sweeter than the sun raw on my ankles

Cupping the sleepless dawn of my dreams
That we might touch each other again
With our enigmatic bruises of fate
I had long ago chosen to wait
And the seer of years passed by

And brighter than noon, I kept
Secret notes of you beneath my pillow
From a sovereign heart I know not why.

Morning Song

Art Courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Nature-s-Embrace-478706780

Every morning
The world is created &
I am a new person

Purified by the tips of orange
Alive with sticks of the sun
Patting me, caressing me
Aching in me to be somebody new
And summer pushes me enlightening

My spirit in phases of existence
For hours I am drunk in
The possibilities of who I could be

But the day has its plan for me
As I submit to the light everywhere
I can feel it secretly working in me
Every morning
I awake to a harmony

That is lighter than snow
More wise than the sound
Of migrating birds, more deep

Than the green that always returns
And my prayers are no longer
Loud, but a part of the silence
From which all prayers come and go
Every morning

The world is created &
I am a new person
With the ashes of night

Sparkling in my chest
Like the reminder of past lifetimes
And in my soul I carry
Thorns like jewels
And it has become my nature

To be happy, to share it
To gift it as if soft trails
Of happiness existed everywhere.

THE DAWN SINGERS

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

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.

Dawns of Twilight

This twilight is clear and blue This rose of Splendor is starry Gold Arcturus brings back the Spring As the chanting from the Eastern isles The Earth has changed, For me tonight, time sails us on The hazy orange moon …

Intervals of Living Happily

I am excited to face morning
blue morning with all the happiness
that the world can contain
this is my maximum of joy

my interlude of peace
O Sun how happy and not carefully
expecting the best of the
many others I will see, the other selves

the nymphs of delight, all sharing
some mood of eternity
our goals are rosy limbs of
the species, our closed wells of

treasured value, the stamp
of what we once held dear –
I am excited to face morning
with you, do you remember laughter

that opened large bright eyes and gazed
like an archangel expecting fiery swords
of light wielded in ways
i cannot explain, the impossible play

of colors at dawn, that dangles infinity
on a rope that became the flesh
of my young children, singing and playing.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Kohnio-III-404152924