On The F r i n g e s of E n l i g h t e n m e n t


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On The F r i n g e s of E n l i g h t e n m e n t

I am the beginning’s mind
In love with many possibilities
So I became a poet
Without accepting the fact

That everything changes
We are impotent
We cannot find perfect composure

Life is a koan ready to be experienced
Transience is that nature
And nurture of the game
Art is like the discipline

Of creating a reoccurring situation
Where the world is its own magic
And we are visitors, it’s that simple

So won’t you stay for a while?
Everything is perfect
And understanding yourself
Allows you to understand everything

And ultimately, we must exist
Right here and now
I am the beginner at love

For only recently
Did I recognize her everywhere.

Forever Arriving


The world changes
While we are stuck
Looking at each other
Lost in a sympathy of meeting

If two look out into space together
Are they then transported
As far as eyes have seen?
In some bright blindness of the stars?

To love is it to undress our names
To no longer be people but
Purely, male and female
Two mirrors of forms

Drunk in the plaza of biology
To turn eternity into empty hours
Ferocious memories of being a couple
Minutes in beloved prisons
That’s how the world changes.

SO MAKE THE MOST OF THIS


101

We were tired, we were very merry
We had gone back and forth
About the reason to stay alive
But we looked into the fire
And we saw each other
And the sky went warm

And our lips grew cold
The sun dripped emerald
On our morning lighted cheeks
And our hearts, were the places
Where people came and went

Like gold in the trader’s hands
We were tired, we were very merry
We loved the beggars that we fed
We had gone back and forth
About the sincerity of our altruism

We cared for what we had to say
In our silence that blew neighbours in
And we looked into the afternoon square
And we saw each other there
And the sky went wet

And our mouths opened for the rain
We were like children, dancing
Our hearts were what they were before
We closed the windows but could
Still hear the birds, from scattered

Crumbs upon the sill, the hours raced
We were tired, we were very merry
The loveliest lies of our lives
Were in the end, what we cherished most.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Pandora-s-box-466251807

Patchwork Features of Social Interchange


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Now tell me there is a pause
Of where the world bends, and we Begin –
The ferries of the best twilights
That were people, half-bloomed
.
Before they cross the river ahead
Each person brings us a symbol
Of the world, like corn and half-blown sunflowers
That dangles in the reaching out
.
That might have never been, since
The wind-burned pastures don’t always
Have much to show, a few smiling memories
That good advice that haunts us till our end
.
Now tell me there is a pause
To the affections that do not last –
What someone in their wisdom might have meant
In reference to their imperfect knowledge of us?
.
There is a strange afterlife, to lovers
And a peculiar premonition of strangers
Now tell me there is a pause
Of where we begin, and the intersection
Through the fretwork of our ghostlike biographies.