A Woman’s World

 

To fight alone Is not brave
It’s suicidal, the Calvary is a family
Success is empty when not shared
The heart is not a solitary thing
The kingdom needs a female ruler

A smile suffused with creation
A bliss larger than heaven
A womb whose content is hope

No, to live alone is not healthy
To hide in the virtual worlds
We all require the skin on skin
Of happiness, the fruit of labor
The ripeness of summer

Success is not devoid of love or grace
It is for relationships that we conquer
The value is always in giving

I have a missing friend in my heart
Who taught me the joy of service
Fighting is for the tribe, not the individual
A harmony of identity diffused
In a higher aim, in a greater glory

Accessible like an inherited thrill
Or a gene that shines for everything
The dopamine of a better world.

These Urban Rites

If the soul selects her own society
Then tell me who shut the door on years
Shared, oblivious, estranged that was
Once so intimate, divorced reality

Some things that fly – are meant to be
Don’t you know, lover, formerly Beloved?
Where we two crept through winters
Hand in hand for a short while

Was it enough, tell me lost friends?
I have known some of the most lonely hours
Sensitive perhaps to primitive emotions
Of abandonment, alienation, dependency

On a clan, a tribe, a friend, a partner
Who was not truly there, the family unit
Is then, not what it used to be
Brothers, unsistered, father impersonal and past

Faith is a fine invention, for community
But what if the world was dangerously anonymous
What if the trusting woods were no more?
And friendship, as if spoken by a distant bird

Whose voice has been ripped from evolution’s side
We, who were once two butterflies at noon
In our starry youth, overcome with glee
The tides have turned and we’ve been beaten

By men who would be our competition,
What mystery pervades such a world
Where the street and brutality have new meaning
And poverty a disfigured face to those
Who once might have shown us kindness.

When Nature With Rubies & Stars Pelteth Me

When the night is almost done
And we have walked a life of years
Dark and light, with uniforms of snow
Steps through rain and dimples ready

To face the morning’s mist
When body is in her frightened hour
Do not be afraid, soul
Spirit that shines in smiling procession

For change bears her faithful witness
There is no fight in the Great Spirit
She’s just there, in peace and surrender
A vacancy of meditation’s ambush

On heights of piercing wild
Where stars are free above the winds
When the day has come
To look inside your self

And silence like an ocean rolls
I will hear the voice of Time
And she will fling her speech in prayer
And all beauty will unscrutinize

For nature is the bright majority
She guides the continual crowning
Of my steps, and takes me by the hand
A feminine onset of eternity
In my blood, and health in my shared oxygen.

Into the Stars

Into the Stars

An everywhere of silver

An everywhere of love

That’s what life is, in essence

A unity of being and becoming

Until I becomes we

And we becomes us

With breath to track the land

And a heart to hold the sky

And morning lit with a bud

Of breaking sunlight in the eyes

An everywhere of gold

An everywhere of eyes

That’s what life is, the melody

Of a trillion echoes of lives

A unity of hope

Until diversity revolts

We are splinter colonies

Lifting our little girls to the stars.

This Juvenile World

I’m haunted in November again
In corridors of time’s fleeting
To be a ghost oneself, to oneself
In the lonesome places
Where age meets security

To be shut up in verse
Like an artist tied and captive
To the abolishment of normalcy
The lives others lead, I’ve been
Placed inside a closet of make-believe

And when I show my head
To the world, I feel absurd
Or else, the world appears absurd to me
But what if I abolished creativity
In separate drawers, art has a smaller possession

Than it once did in dreary youth
But I’m still Nobody, Who have you become?
We’re not a pair of invisible, we’re separated
By digital noise, channels as juvenile
As the potential of a word, the possibility of a voice
There’s nothing the world has,
That I want anymore, it’s a con and a game
With every blossom and on every bush
My route to evanescence is a Saturday hush.

Death Comes

If I should die, leave me here
In books, buried poems, last thoughts
For we all have the commerce to continue
Life, it will do well without us
That’s just the gentleman of Spring

Evolution with a smile
If I should die, live on as before
For I cannot help what I missed
Oh dear, I hardly lived if but for you
The final summer was not so unlike
The seasons that came before

If I should die, I’ve lived on dread
The danger of not living up to the self
The self that conjured up an identity
And some pet works for a while
If I never have children, then do not judge me

Strange that each one’s loving
Comes to nothing in the end
Sweet hours have perished here
And a heart divided by time
With room enough to ask the universe
If she too felt the thrill of the unknown.

If Love Be

Love is anterior to life
Or is it just the plume
The hummingbird’s regard
In a lonely pilgrimage?

Prayer are my paralyzing footsteps
Of this obscure fogged air
Perhaps there is no enchanted prize
At the end of the weary way

If there are limits to our dream
Then maybe it’s the world
Not our fault, just a symptom
Of the decay of the times

If love is just a supreme moment
In a ruddy effort to survive
Than what new value has the soul?
That finds goodwill, posterior to death.

The Focus of my Little Prayers

I started early, took my dog
And visited the sea of poems
There in the basement of dreams
I found the lilacs staring back at me
I was impressed by the melody

How the sea withdrew in felicity
There was no turning back, it was set
The moon waltzed above my head

And I like mortals swooned
On the page of my youth
Where slow-motion still loved
The quietness distilled
From silence of the dove

And the summer made me beautiful
Inside, to protect me from the dying
Change was enhanced in song

Through sequestered scattered afternoons
And I was as much, my own sun
As the light escapes across the white
Across the wet throngs of spring
To be a poet of all the things we might become

Enlarging loneliness, with an inner smile
Finding joy in emptiness, that’s what
I know best, and it’s how I’ve survived

These books of bronze and blaze
And haloes of another time
I’ve felt the wizard suns
From distant eyes and praised
It’s all I have to bring today

All I am is me, and it’s a meadow wide
And it’s a storm’s encircling pride
And in my heart there is no setting or rising
There just lives a poem, that cannot die.

Ecstasy Once Leapt, but Not in Me

Ecstasy Once Leapt, but Not in Me

I felt a cleavage in my brain

For hope and faith and love again

That the Earth did not do good

Or my heart knew not how to summon

The friendship I so desired, but could not find

The slumbering pain of tragedy

Lingered like a shell next to the lost sea

Of if my human nature could survive

*                      *                      *

While I aged in years that

Only secrets could keep pacts

With immortality, I was bare

A bird, a sky, a planet’s lone summit

And the barren ethereal throng

Could not feel what I maybe once was

All the love of youth had fell

For nature’s curtain of harsh reality

That the Earth did not do evil

Perhaps it was just I that felt the

Sequence of the ravelled fate

Where destiny parted with thee.

Having our Times

The clouds on their blacks lay
Trumpets of the rounds of time
They brought thunder, lightning, dance
Not with vengeance but industrious

Angels near, time playing clown again
Settled for a bask in a golden sun
This was Earth, proud and indifferent
Extinction was speaking to God

The last night and smallest of things
The awful leisure of the years given
The sense of nearly infinite renewal
In our absence and in our cleansing

Planets had a kind of intelligence
Unopened to the divinity italicized
Of what it means to be sentient
The responsibility it bears, the human sign

A fear that urges the soul to live
Out its design before the play of the body
Is done, And not spoons, playmates or
Holidays can save us, we all have our time.

When you are a big Heart, pray tell me

Heart, we will love life
We will not forget the warmth she gave
The blessed privilege and opportunities

To meet souls and flesh of trees
And experience the imperial senses
That would be stranger and lighter

And heavier than breath which came
And went in years into the unknown
Where memory cannot enter

And friends outgrow the love we knew
And time will not falter, because
Our rendezvous with life is not permanent

Life stuns you by degrees
And asks your spirit to understand
And the world falters you in its cravings

So undeniably organic and disorganized
Heart, we have known the best
Of both worlds, East and West

In months of solitude and marriages
And we have wept as change ragdolled us
Across the seasons, how we loved

The bitter sweet moments, only we
Could comprehend, and frame
In the subjectivity of our sweetest thoughts
Our noble heart always wanted to love more.

Time with her Long Storm and Rainbow Nose

Until it puzzled came
I blinded centuries with my will
To continents of ecosystems entertained
Until the arctic got her drills

For oil, diamonds and the last hurray
Of a species running stock markets
To fetch the bills
I cannot live with you

Greed of white-man firmaments
Let Indian and Chinese colonize Mars
While you flood here with latitudes
Of European migrants over-run

And Germany caught on her heels
Colonial, accustomed and common industry
Alive for the moment, without regret
Wild as the guns they keep at home

While plummets stars from these flags
Too heavy to touch the angels
Too righteous with their own sense of God
Time will interdict the blossoms

California can’t lead the world
That is destined with acute degrees
Judgement day of time and eternity.

Ode to #556

The Brain, was designed
To run with the Cosmos
She catches splinters of the Heavens
‘Twere easier for her to renew
In our 20s her wild inspiration
And run evenly and true
With the genius of our star’s reach
To forget the past and invent the future
In a swoop of eternal muse
Find ways to create second chances
And build ships of light
From burning clay and barren cities
To trod the galaxies in search of hope.

I’d pause to die a little by the setting sun

Death loves immortality and nature
Finds death a lovely friend
She always knows when to come calling

We take the carriage
To infinity there
In the pause before

A divorce, a parent’s passing, a child’s coming
It’s epic to feel the roof of the universe
So close, so very intimate

With the tragedy and the gratitude
Colliding as it were, in an Eden
Of rampant change that will not

Let us rest, it’s irresistible
And a Force to be reckoned with
Death is not sinister, but natural

And we taste her every day
Beloved, we die a little bit every day
While men clamor after immortality

Power, status, the works
Women know that connecting and
Affirming life, is a much more valuable

Way of being, caring for the world
While we are alive, that’s meaning enough.

On Childlessness

On Childlessness

I’ll never know success
As counted as a thing
I’m not particularly happy with things
Not more cheerful with luxury

Our share of morning
Comes most often with belonging
And special souls as passing stars
I admit to lose and gain is ecstasy

I’ll never know in limp listening
Of a lonely lifetime
What it makes to know defeat
And tasting it so personally

To those who have abandoned us
And to those who could not understand
I’ll never know success of intimacy
Like some others do so spontaneously

I’ll be the descendent of a witness
I’ll be the selflessness lost in moments
That were forever eternal presents
I know I won’t be remembered
I’ll have no living legacy.

Celebrity of You

Celebrity of You

Parting is all we know of each other
And God is all we know of heaven
So why does it feel

I walk to heaven to meet you?
They say that God is everywhere
But I felt him most
In your presence

What does it mean,
So tell me the truth and tell it with a slant
I want a love that is anterior to life
Dying a wild night
In the arms of an eternal youth.

To love is so startling

To love is so startling it leaves very little time for anything else

How strange the signs that led me to you
And you who, did not make a sign
Not unlike nature’s own
Who does not knock, and does not intrude

Whatever is most sweet
Will it come again, or
Never coming again
Make the memory of you more pure?

But memory and signs
And not my estate
Nor are you obliged to recognize
What comes so naturally to my view

I’m a nobody, who are you?
Fame is fickle, human love is
Initial, but not constant
So how shall I cleave to

A reincarnating muse
Whose success is not in the taking
Whose fortune is only
In the miraculous giving

I who don’t have such
A big heart to give, or courage
To try and love yet again.

(When hope has no face)

It Asked a Crumb of Me

Hope is the thing that catches you
When you have children
It perches in your soul like

A quiet song, you cannot explain it
Faith has feathers without words
It’s simple, profound

And has a quality that never stops
Its flight traverses dawns
Hope is a quality of purpose

To have a future is enough
Little birds must content with
All the dangers, just like you

Hope is not found in all
The parts of this world, some resent it
Others have reset it, it lingers

In the back of our minds
Even when storms have come
Hope inches you forward
Sore from tragedies, it brings you
Your people, and sometimes

That is enough to get through another day
Sometimes nobody comes
And you must go inside
To find the peace of the strangest sea
To find crumbs of divinity.

Formula to Singularity

Formula to Singularity

A Light exists this Spring
Not like other Marches, Aprils, Mays
It’s the kind of eerie light

That flames, February’s stark cold
Legacies from the shadows
A color stands abroad and smiles

For science will overtake men
While seasons turn, AI will be born
But human nature feels

The need to breathe, breed, bridge
The gap between people, generations
But smart machines will only have

One aim, to self-improve, to learn
A light exists this spring, so charming
To the touch of eyes on the slopes

The horizons are all a-buzz, zap!
And drones patrol the noons
Encouraged by trade and encroaching upon

The cities, we are a flying on our way
The light is naked to the touch
And so is the future’s invisible nearness.

Ghazal Aquarius

Ghazal Aquarius

I’m nobody! But strangely
I quiver with the future
A spark lets fire fly in me
I cannot know it the way I do

It lives in me, as others
Follow custom of tradition
They own it, they prophesize doctrine
I’m nobody! Not even a rebel

But the future is drearily awake
In me, like a momentum punch
Of light and change, decades
Fast forward in my brain

Until we are, a new kind of we
And I am embraced by technology
The pain of being separated
From that telepathy and empathy

It’s not something I can endure
For too many years, living like this
In the past, where people are
So separate as make-believe individuals.

Whispers form the software of the Oversoul

Whispers form the software of the Oversoul

I measure every grief
With an ocean of love
I wonder if it weighs
On other minds like mine?

I analyze every calamity
With the treasures offered
From nature like the privilege

The intangible and extreme
Privilege of having seen what I saw
Of having loved an almost Enlightened

Vision of what suffering and
The heights could mean?
Descendent divinity, something

That evolves in contrasts of
Love and pain, so easily hurt
So often ruined, and gently doomed
I measure every grief

But I cannot always tell
The date and time of surreal surprises
The most unexpected things
A few golden drops in centuries.

Or Not to be

Or Not to be

I died for beauty and for grief
As if they were scarce
As if I was in need
When one died it did not matter
Descendent divinity could adapt

For truth and beauty
Belong to the future’s make
In kin I never knew I had
In aliens so similar, it was
Hard to comprehend

I died for beauty and for grief
I lived perhaps a wasted
Satisfied temporary, like an abyss
And my name was not beautiful
But at least we were together

In adjoining rooms, fed
Language, light and breath
A while, I died but it was not bitter
It was the natural way to be
Living until we die
Now that was a beautiful thing.

Serotonin is on her Sails

Serotonin is on her Sails

I felt a celebration in the end
Of a funeral in the brain
That was not so much Serotonin

But something else, I cannot say!
Something in me enjoyed tragedy
Or the idea of bare simplicity

Nude in anonymity,
Like the keen peace of silence
Or the agony of intimacy

With nobody, but something else
That’s descendent divinity
The space between one

Season of life and another
The waiting, the wrecked waiting….
I felt a celebration in the dark

Of suffering at her fuel’s end
Where mourners leave the known world
And where lovers turn to go
When all the kisses have run out.

Blessed be in weary time of beginnings

Blessed be in weary time of beginnings

Death sets a lovely significance
On all our lives and more
For each ecstatic verse

Was an instant of our mind
Held like descendent divinity
The mysticism in our genes

It’s a future we keep reliving
And a past we keep repeating
For each beloved hour

Has a sharp pang of lost years
Bitter contested failures
And love-eyed private victories

They say we err in front of the world
That cannot remember anything
But succeed in our own merit
In the private judge of a soul’s conscience.

On Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality

On Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality

I cannot stop for death
One man’s heart breaking
Is another woman’s birth
I cannot live in vain

For there has never been
Another one quite like me
Not I, unto the nest again
Descendent divinity shall wrap

All my mortal wounds
Filling me with light
Hope is the thing with feathers
That fly on dreams that dance

At every dawn, at every twilight
I cannot stop for death
But I must risk it all
To live the life I want

Death will not ask me for directions
When it is to Immorality
Of the soul for which I walk
I know no haste, for I believe

In my appointed hour and place
I cannot stop for death
For Fate has me in his civility
I labour past leisure for a cause

Of which all previous acts accumulate
I cannot stop for death
For eternity will feel jaded
If I stop for long for anyone.

Prince of worlds

The world is not conclusion
She rides the glory and tragedy
Leaving us behind no doubt
A descendent divinity

History a symphony of positives
In a life of necessary suffering
We have no shame, generations
Of maladies, cancer of the Planet

We have no guilt, ecological terrorists
To breed into the billions
Imagine the height of arrogance!?
As the oceans die, in a philosophy of next

Permafrost is melted into the atmosphere
The world is not a conclusion
She is a star among trillions
Her philosophy is ancient

Extinction is not worrisome for her
She has seen a million species scar her planet
But none like us, none like when
Mars was once full of life

We’ll do it again in no time
But will we make it to other worlds?
That is the love affair with time
To survive, we do what we do

In order to survive, for this
God does not have to exist
Or any myth in fact, but it’s helpful
To imagine life as an ambush of bliss

Heaven but a moment away
For reality is an expensive privilege
For which I have outgrown in labour
It may be a forgone conclusion that

We die, but in piercing earnest
The life after death must be a treat
It’s hard to be surprised anymore
In jest, let’s believe in what we please.

The Soul Achieves Herself without effort

Gradual is our relationship
with the grace behind nature
another spectral October Fall
how the wizard sun confines

and the flamingo sunsets wave goodbye
the fires ebb, the flowers cease
their sport, the stars wink
at snowflakes on their fall

to carpet a sparkling web
sapphire moments drift by
at dusk in the cities
there is a soft glimmer

in the streets, it is cold outside
as we bow one by one into
our brief solitude, with visions
to guide us for the labours of tomorrow

paralyzed by the savings of gold
or the lack of savings in our bank accounts
the wisdom of life is a brief release
the details we once scrutinized

no longer seem so important after all
to live a good life, means different things
at separate points in our story
and nothing in the end intoxicates

like the God neurochemical
call it what you will, the spirit
lives on after all these subplots
the search for a diviner brand

of metaphysics, philosophy, utopia
until there are no visitors to our soul
but a diviner truth, a more united feeling
gradual is our relationship
with what’s beyond the scope of years.

Photo Courtesy:

1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Be-on-the-road-with-warmly-thoughts-482560577
2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Deer-Collaboration-483167431

And Marry Whom or What I May

Here stands miscellaneous enterprise
Whatever design my maker might
Prophesize, I shall do

Flowers & Suns understand
Hope is the thing with features
That allows us to fly
Choice the banter of the soul
At the brink of an anomaly

Society is made to control you
The cities keep you in slavery
And love, she binds you good

In her traditions, customs, rites
Another nuclear family, just what
The world needs, here stands a lifetime
Our natural portion of defeat
The pale luck of our suffering

Men too straight might stoop again
Women too generous, might
Welcome martyhood, what choice

Does an altruist have in a corrupt world?
Whatever design my maker made
I will fill my stars on earth in full
Taught waiting with myself until
The appointment with eternity

Has lost its meaning, I am afraid
Every moment is an eternal altitude
And Fate, means neither good or evil

There is a science to reality
“It is what it is”, they softly whisper
Never mind my breathless anvil!
Never mind repose, there exists no such thing
All is labour and tugging and forge

Until the years rivet faster still
To quiet your lungs of all this breathing
To still the beating heart, that doesn’t
Know how to stop.

Photo Courtesy:

1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/SAYS-486144944

2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Hello-October-485904015

Extinction is kind of joy

While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.
~ Leonardo da Vinci

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Still-waters-473282917

Exhilaration is even for doom, a spark
the future that doth royally intoxicate
Bard to diviner brand
Innocence to outcry of, technology

The Soul achieves
it’s mirth with drinks, visitors
The bright experience for which
there is no duplicate, no copy

‘Tis a brief holiday to love this world
this existence of tragic surprise
Ample ruin, unjust malignancy
When health is but a dream

And we exhale in offspring
who shall create and visit their own doom
Forever is composed of little nows
No real latitude called home

Just algorithms of change
Remove the dates, time dissolves memory
Without debate, I shall give over
My life to computers and virtual currencies

Until we are but a symbol
of a place and time, that no longer
Can exist, that day ignorance will steal
Triumph of the birds and human victories.

WHITE JADE, FEMALE POET, ORANGE PITCHER

Heaven bless the babe
Orphaned by divinity
What queer books she will read
Granted, to be a poet isn’t easy

When she is older, she will say:
“Till the Spring, my murdered lover
Till our souls meet in another form
The language of my foolishness
Will be the bridge I swear”

Heaven bless the babe
Who suffered for the world
To make a cheerful song
That could outlast the centuries

Quiet, suavely clothed in sacrifice
Hurling, golden spears of martyrdom
Up the lines my silver runner
With a pen and a canvas
Bearing the banner of lost poets

In a siege of a dead poet’s society
Heaven bless the babe
Who became a writer
When critics were white rich men

Come now Aphra, be content
You and I have nothing to do with music
Akhmatova’s cannon is all about
Death beating the door in
For women fraught with inequality

Emily knew in her circle of white
Edna urged a certain possession of zest
For being born a woman, is a clarity
In the pulse, a sonnet gone unread.

P.S. To female poets: Aphra Behn, Anna Akhmatova, Emily Dickinson, Edna St.Vincent Millay.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sylvia-II-460402222