Solar Storm

 

Solar Eclipse, how everything changes when you come
I can feel in my bones the disintegration of the past
I, who love too much and too easily the rebels
The arts; the ruins of my creative drives

Abandoned I lurk in a passage to the future
I have no deep friends, no truth in my own eyes
Only the battle of the brain, this misguided heart
That seeks and wishes for stories I never find

Solar Eclipse, how you burn me to the core
I, who have only been a humble servant of the sun
How many lives mush I endure the madness?
How many misunderstandings in my soul?

Brittle light, do you not know how poor I am?
That I die of loneliness each and every day
Like a poet lost in the light, trapped on Earth
If suicide calls me, then will I be home?

Storm-flowers of the sun, give your dagger looks
I, who have suffered already more than you can imagine
Displaced, weak, vulnerable, cowardly
For a few days of magic I sacrificed already so much

August 21st, I can feel your approach
Like a zombie apocalypse on my Venus degrees
There’s heartache in your absence, but only I would know
I who look up at the sun for her designs

I who felt her swimming in my brain like a leopard
I worshipped at the temple of her Art, like no other
Lost in the bewildered shadows of her aches
I know my time was illegitimate, hours and minutes

Like the spiritual thirst for another season
Another era of the heart, that does not exist in this reality
Troubled soul, why do you run and push and wine
When the truth of our being sets us free

In the cold climax of extreme heat, that only a few
Will ever dare to touch that side of us.

 

 

I Plead Myself with Thee

I have dreamed of death and mine
As if it were ungrateful of me to keep
Living and breathing, although

I have laid the rest of thy divinity
In a place so deep inside of me
That like a pilgrimage I scattered youth

The Autumn innocence that
Empties me of feeling every year
With each passing summer I leave

A part of myself well and beloved behind
And in doing so, I die enough to stalk
The future of my own gifts

That won’t be mine, but in meeting you
Will have unveiled something of the infinite
Where I can live irresponsibly and fine
Not bound by this Earth that won’t keep me lovingly
There’s no shadow’s length I bet
No growing pale as I strive

Who can understand the imperfection?
Of our humilities, that leaves
The orchard of our shared vulnerability
Open and not barren, where thrives
Scanty sunbeams for hidden fruit
Proof that we hung Springs together well.

Letters from my German Soul

I should think I’m a better ghost of a poet
Than a human being, why?
We no longer share a language
I’ve become too abstract, like

How sometimes everything seems
So subjective, until I lose myself
In the dream of a body
In the hopes of a mortal life

That nonetheless anticipates ecstasy
Even when I have learned to fear pain
Trusting the moment, walking through fire

To get to some place that was
Inside myself all along
The most solid advice my soul ever gave
Was to burn my hand about the nature of fire

To live as a poet might live
But I’m, more heart than alchemy
More curiosity, than temptation

More innovator, than life-traveller
Poetry and astrology were my mother-tongues
Until I had to learn new languages
Software and smiling, to enter

The Sunday of my brief life
Dying to myself that I might
Feel the bliss of a frozen moment
That melts perfectly into the here and now.

轉型

i

Despair fails like dreams before living
The direct path requires not
Drama, repeating tragedies, private dilemmas
Simplicity renews itself
At a blink before the flower shop
And the faint subtraction of youth
Pride flashes like lightning before

ii

The rain carefully washes us to become
Free of adversity, we finally arrive
At the rose-blue light, transport
Before Dawn, at our favorite place
The clarity after all frameworks have
Been revealed, the neutrality after attachment

iii

The love after karma’s supermarket trash
Was taken away in the heart of an impure soul
Despair fails, like how an old neighborhood
Cannot stay the same, the habit of suffering
Gets endured one way or another.

SPRING FABLE

Berries are sure to redden on
The body of whiteness, entry of Spring
White shadows will collide
Drunk with the juice of Moonlight

Life will explode from the bony Mother
Earth will weep rivers, fountains, lakes
Birds will build fortresses
Time will drag a harmony of balanced ruling

Promising a silence as deep as the source
Buds will drift up the Great goddess stems
Flowers will steer countries to sunsets
Blue water-mists will flash by naked

Startling fishermen, colors will
Taint the margins of everything old
Owls give way to Peacocks
Midnights to quivering fields

Berries are sure to redden
On the fertile mounts of Spring.

Michelangelo’s lost Formula

After trying many years, and then
impoverished, I found the fountain of delight
it is an inner wealth, splendid wife

a seed divine, that glows with inner-harmony
it is the returning Tao, life’s estate
when beauty and love’s metaphors

lay dormant, pregnant, knowing, intrinsic –
Oh my beloved nature’s like that too
after many trying years, and then

my mind fell silent and no longer says
that desire or pain have any place to stay
only a smiling surrender, of the triumphant way.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-colors-of-Summer-402054594

The Alchemist

I must have been an Alchemist in my past life
With a voice that lurches for Paradise
My eyes move along the bright trees
Searching for the peacock-throated night

It is you, my eternal saffron coloured gold
With skin of Mandarin, I remember ancient fire
Your tongue is as wide as the earth’s olives
Moist like the fishing torch of the leaves of poplars

I must have been crazy without you
Chanting for precious metals, I didn’t know
What earthly love could do to a man
I could give up riches, in an instant for you

Enchanted to roll in the silver wheat
Of rustling fields that would burst out
To remember that stillness that is your face
The daughter of the sun in my throat

A gift of light to my trembling sap
That brings me to touch the maple moons.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/llansteffan-castle-390483214

Fully Awake and Dangerous

Wake me up from the depths/
Of slumber, bright-eyed from
A dangerous Dream, it wasn’t real?

I want to be fully awake baby/
To ascend with holy certainty
And chase after timeless optimism

In waking, eating, working, dreaming/
Wake me up from my depths
Of slumber, let me escape

The necessity of being limited/
A dangerous Dream, was it real?
I want to be fully awake dear

Tread my memories roughly/
I have been poor, so poor
Without knowing you, I have

Become rich, so rich, with but/
A drop of you, wake me up
Gently, sweetly, shake me
I don’t know how much longer
I can take it, stand it, kick it.

Sugarcane of Spring

We are a warm spell
Of Spring arriving with different kinds of light
The light to warm us from the inside
A glee of wind and the sweetness
Of how we walk together, side by side

Our thoughts glow with one and another
Some naive people have not gotten
Close enough to you to understand
One drinks from the other
One tenderly learns from the other

To smell the musk of spring, and not judge
Why we share the same fragrance from a jar
Taking us to the face of a different Goddess
You that pour ease into me, my life is burning
Like a candle-moment, I am the newest moth

There is a confusion in surrender, in walking alone
The terrible grief and bliss of being so fragile.

A Last World of Spring

It’s too late to cancel them now
Isn’t it? The birds of spring, sing
Like a mindful entry into the passage
Into summer, May will be coming soon

Reflected in the water of the buds
Fields of division among the twigs
It’s too late to wait up for it now

Isn’t it? The broad gestures of metamorphosis
There are no taboos in Spring
It walks into us from the inside

Sobering with sensuality, green effort
Hazards of the course of threshing floors
Of desire and clarity of impulse

It’s too late to cancel it now
Isn’t it? No more fence-sitting for us
Ambushed by the teeth of flowers

Like a perverse playroom before summer light
I can dwell here a while, to taste
The nearest stars in your liquid eyes.