Golds, yellows, reds
oranges, purples and rose;
The fading greys of night, the shifting oceanic blues of dusk –
mellow beams of radiant light
and soft warmth gilding everything/one
in their path.
Glittering jewels in the crown
of the dawn.
Her ascent and coronation
are the day, and
as further it expands,
becoming potential itself,
the sky bursts alive with color, aglow with the Sun’s fires.
All awake
stunned into quiet awe
as sunrise makes her marks
on the unblemished canvas
of a new day’s genesis…
The most precious gift of the day
is the small moment where all is
blissfully calm, and nothing stirs:
a collective stillness
a moment of pure oneness with the Universe
sunrise is a daily infusion of Nirvana
before the plunge into
the perpetual routine busyness
of the mortal world.
Tag: writing
Unlimitations
I realize I too often limit myself only
to my words and actions
and capabilities;
And that expanding my mind
is the way to break free.
But sometimes, I’m good where I’m at…
and isn’t that as much a part of being
who I am
as at any other distinct point in time?
I often think that
being still
or even refusing to move
has saved my life on many
an occasion.
09 December 2020
Masterpiece
Nothing sexier
than the way a pen writes,
its strokes
slide so smoothly over lines and angles;
Gliding confidently around circles and curves.
Skipping over letters
and slopes
tiptoeing calmly
through numbers and punctuation.
How powerfully it dots i’s,
how brusquely it crosses t’s…
Sinking deep into
and between the lines,
So expressively it conveys
the writer’s vibe
moment to minute.
Fluctuation in frequency
slightly alters
each hump, bump, twirl, curlicue, arc,
dip, loop, point, and tip…
I’m imagining
your hands caressing my body
your tongue having its ways with my curves –
navigating my silhouette;
You holding me,
touching me,
sculpting me –
A glowing magnum opus;
You appreciating me
like I’m the greatest masterpiece
you’ve ever written.
Drag & Drop
Sometimes I wish
I could erase pain
with the same ease I delete files
from my computer;
Quickly, and without even thinking about it,
Getting it out of my sight,
drag & drop that shit away from me.
Yeet…
But if it were that easy
my memory banks would draw blanks
and my drives would be empty;
My most memorable successes
always come from
overcoming struggle.
18 October 2020
Moonrise
Watch
the moon rise
ignite the fireflies
its gradual ascent
beckons my soul’s undercurrents…
Diamond stars flicker and twinkle;
small reminders
I am a galaxy
my planes
know no gravity
I could fly
if I wanted to.
03 July 2020
Tightrope
I adopted “klutz” and “clumsy”
into my lexicon
long ago when I actually believed
I was prone to
tripping, falling, teetering.
I’m now starting to see
that it’s hard to keep
balance
when always being
pulled in every different direction
except the one you want to go in.
Walking a tightrope is dangerous
when it’s wrapped around your neck.
21 June 2020
Nothing’s Wrong
Today’s lunch:
coffee with a
tequila chaser
and a side of
meditative reflection…
Doing my best to cope;
But honestly, I hate
this state
of being –
Coping is no way of life,
I should be living as I breathe –
freely, and without thinking about it.
There are many who no longer own this luxury.
Being even more honest,
I never gave myself
the time and grace to mourn
my grandmother’s passing.
[Has it really only been a month and a half?]
And now we have a nation
shrouded in grief,
who’s also tired
and also hurting…
My sorrow no longer belongs to me;
Not when
Modern day lynching permeates our airwaves,
diminishes our vibrations –
looped almost daily, discussed hourly
for sensationalized effect.
Why can’t there ever be
just one day
where everything is peaceful,
and nothing’s wrong
like we already pretend
it isn’t?
Horcrux
I pressed my soul somewhere
between the pages
of this book,
Like the most delicate of flora
we seek to preserve –
It’s a favorite of mine.
I wrote the stories
of my heart
into its chapters
the ink’s bled deep
into its fibers…
I can recite every word
from memory
and recall
my favorite phrases and passages;
Sometimes with laughter
other times with tears.
But it means nothing to you,
my horcrux,
because when you open it,
the pages are blank
and dry
and you don’t understand
the entire universe you’re missing out on
by not reading between
the lines you can’t see.
My book of light
doesn’t shine very brightly
in the fog –
it’s only a beacon
that burns away the darkness within
The shadows I vanquished long ago.
You’ll remain illiterate
if you obscure yourself in
the fading light
of others’ daydreams…
Misgivings always haunt
our nightmares.
Didn’t you know
reading in the dark
is bad for your eyes?
Tapestry
Writing a date –
a task so simple as
printing numbers or letters
to mark a day in time,
reminds me that
fleetingly, I got to hold
a finite fragment
of a passing moment
long enough
to create a memory…
Without memory,
there’s no history;
Without history,
no legacy –
No legacy, no peace (of mind),
the greatest peace comes from
knowledge of self
and origins.
All the pieces of our soul
come from the pathways
of generation
our bloodlines paved through
time and space…
Writing a date
is a moment of reverence;
Cursive my homage to it
The action alone
indelibly weaving
part of me
directly onto the tapestry
of time.
Transmute
Sometimes,
I just sit
and allow myself to feel deeply
the emotional agitation
and pain and sorrow
that I absorb
from others
as I progress through my days
and allow to blend
with my own…
And I
hurt for every soul
who knows and endures
such agony…
Then I release it screaming
to the edges of the universe
tearing rifts into the cosmos
I imagine it
leaving trails of healing warmth
in its blustery wakes
as it leaves.
I take on every soul-shredding
wave,
letting it all crash over me
endlessly, violently, tirelessly
until it subsides
and there is no more –
of it to take, of me to give.
All is calm.
For the briefest of moments
I am vulnerable, exposed;
Human.
In the leftover shallows
between infinity and continuum,
I am no longer weak;
I elevate a little more,
I transmute.