Sudden flowers lapse


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Sweet one, I’m so foreign to your luxury
I have no interest in champagne
I’d much rather an outstretched soul
The speck of birds in a silence of intimacy
I’m quiet like that, in awe of the little things

I’m the initial letters of lost fingerprints
A cherished voice that can disappear
As soon as I came, free in the watery prismatic white-and-blue

While I’m filled with glowing tributes
I’d rather live a lonely maturity today
Than always hoping for solace in the long journey
A bullet of delight, in the middle of the night
Nature’s beauty spilt in Korean-Portuguese

I know the flower’s life, the ocean’s beauty
The blue, to blue-green to olive set of a woman
There’s no margin for error in the feminine mystique

The years of mating, the search for experience
And it hurt to feel your singing flamencos go
Your wet destiny of the rumor of the sky’s thousand lips
Reflected in your bottomless feelings and charms
But with time, salt and whispers, I’ll forget you

Savaged by the carnivorous impulse in my hope
Where thirst is never enough, and in the calculation of time
I’m not immune to the fragrance of the distant pollen
That beckons me indignantly across the fields

Sweet one, I have no energy for anything but
The sudden flower of reciprocity.

As New Rivers school Old Oceans


28

As New Rivers school Old Oceans

I’m in the waiting room
Called life
Between one world
And the next
It’s empty here
And quiet right down

To my bones, they are light
My mind is water
My breath is an appointment
With time, my body
Is a fragrance of the forest
All around me

These walls are not life
The cities do not grow
The skies blink with airplanes
Those birds haven’t left
In what direction
Is the waiting room?

From here to there
From outside to inside?
Babies too shy to stop
Clinging to a breast
They haven’t yet studied
Faces, but that’s soon

I’m in the waiting room
Called life
I don’t plan to stay forever
I won’t be called upon
The metaphor of surprise
Is nearly old to me

I might have been embarrassed
If I wasn’t the only one here
We are symbols to ourselves
And non-existent to reality
I’m in the waiting room
Between something and nothing

A dual mirror or voice
The echo of sanity or madness
Catching a thread in the
Silence, to remember that
I can be separate from
The fabric of the universe

If required, when ego is necessary
Like for movement or work or mating
It doesn’t seem important
I’m in the waiting room
For a lifetime of
Observation, studious observation.

Symphony of Silence


28

I am in need of music that would flower
like salvation for my fretful moments
my fingers tips to be the trembling melodies
of the deep, clear, liquid, universal voice
that is not my own voice, but all voices
for the healing swaying, old and low

i am in need of some song sweet
that echoes the trance of silence’s source
i am in need of peace, after quiet breath
of heart made still, after high blood pressure
i am in need of music that showers forth
crushing all obstacles in rhythm and sleep

for notes transport us into frequency
and everything boils down to frequency and light
balls of light that dance in space-time
a music of freedom, so i am reincarnate
into another form, on another world.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Music-115768965

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Conversations Of Children


The tumult in the heart
Waits for answers
Keeps asking real questions
And in the same tone of voice

It whispers, the only answer is love/
These conversations keep starting
And there is only us
The tumult in the heart

Is an eternal equation
Meant for two, like beating the same
With the same meaning of a life
Waiting for news of some Beloved

The tumult in the heart/
Is as old as the world
She converses with every part of
My body, your body, our world

The tumult in the heart
Waits for children to speak
Our children, no one could tell the difference
Whose children these were
For they were hybrids of the new world.