night's journey

it is time to be still

to listen to my heart beat
hear my breath
listen to the rhythm of my soul

let the spirit of life that surrounds

be a part of me
i can dance by standing still
sing my song without yelling

i can hear the mountain move

and the trees sway
as the wind plays in their lair
and the streams and rivers
titillate their very soul

in my stillness i can hear the sparkle

of star dust fall
onto my path where i reside
it calls to me letting me know
it is the melody of my soul

i can sense the energy we call dark

that holds the stars in place
in its universe light plays
and it calls out to me...
‘be still my friend and you will
hear me call, you will see my soul,
you will take my hand and i shall
lead you to your mother land’

it summons me, not now but soon

so i shall stand still and listen,
be aware of what is before me
so that i may become one with all
and my soul shall take the journey
in the quiet of night

welcome the day

Oh, silvery moon that pleasures mine eyes

and the glitter adorning your black veil
many dreams you’ve inspired as i became
a prince, a savior in my reveries

Helios, el sol del mundo,

so many mornings you’ve awaken me
sometimes in a rainbow filled with rain drops
that fall from heaven with hypnotic
tickling upon the window pane liken
the beginnings of my days

so many breaths have been bestowed

upon my heart and soul making me
the wealthiest of all, not needing to be
sustained or tethered by worldly possessions

i’ve been given the greatest of treasures

the most wondrous of gifts
through sharing my heart, my soul,
when first i learned i was loved

truly grateful to be instilled with this

and in light that my gratitude may fall
upon an unfeeling universal spirit
my heart is still better for it

transmuting

before you, i stand naked
but for a gold chain

hanging from my neck
with a gold carved small eagle
also an Aztec calendar pendant
as titivation

a symbol of my inner soul

where in a different journey
i soared like an eagle and
my day was ruled by
of an Aztec sun and moon

and when i lay my eyes to close

i am taken to this place
in the spirit of the universe
where truth aligns and
shares the dark of space

peering down i witness a curious

bipedal species traversing upright
no feathers, not much hair
moving about holding each
others hanging limbs picking my
blueberries and apples off the trees

they seem a calm and peaceful bunch

they herd together and bend their limbs
sit about in circled rings on grassy knolls
making noise coming from their throats
as they leer up at me and i stare down
wondering of them, how it is to be

i wander on, through soft clumps of white

letting the wind lift me underneath my wings
i come upon the earth bound sky of water
instinctively my talons appear
and i soar down, down to clench
the silvery scale of a meal meant for me

upon a promontory i perch to feed

my belly full, preen my feather coat
and reflect upon the curious species
i came upon seemingly calling up
toward my sky wishing to be like me

crickets chirping awaken me.

i sense a pair of eyes staring down from above
leering upon me curiously as if to wonder
what it would be like to be me
my eyelids blink open, i stare into darkness
but for a slither of defused white light
piercing through a window blind

 

a plea

five in the morning and the stars
hang, glittering, in all their brilliance
pin pricked onto a black canvas

crickets, crickets, crickets, ceaseless

cool air and the stars reflection glisten off
blades of grass sparkling from dew

the cool wet mingles between my toes

standing, arms stretched out, hands open,
head tilted looking up, I ask for help

my plea is not for me but for those

that cannot do what I am doing
without fear, without hunger, without pain

if i stand here long enough transmitting

these well-wishes, maybe, just maybe
star dust will fall all around

grateful, deep, deep, I inhale this cool morn…
into my soul, exhale it onto the spirit of life

for all to share, all to breathe

 

smile, fills the space

Oh, smile, you who lingers in the corner

where you’ve chosen to hide. come out take the place
of sadness for it has stayed too long.

come out, smile, take the place of pain and anguish

for my bones have become brittle and can no longer
carry the weight

if you could just but for a moment peer out

to give my heart my soul a little moment of reprieve
from the misery of struggle, from the cry of strife

i will welcome you with the warmth of my

embrace and coddle you and of this sadness,
take its place

i will sing for you and play my guitar

and run through fields of wild flowers,
kick and splash the waters of the creeks and
streams and if you evince with the day

the radiance of your smile, the sun will

foster from me in the same .
humbly, i’m but a speck in the multi-universes
but with a smile i fill the whole of space

“the soul would have no rainbow if the eye had no tears”

my eyes have seen the sky kiss mountain tops
they have witnessed trees play in the wind
the breathless capture of Eagles soaring in and out
through cotton clouds while playing tag with the Sun

my eyes have drunk the tear drops falling from above

and momentarily blinded by the flashing spears of Thor
as i would run through the forest smiling at my reflection in
pristine streams as creatures play watching me naked that I am

my eyes have captured mothers kisses of their child

the frolicking of fathers with their sons till dusk
taken to the crimson and gold sunsets as the day begins
to wane yet realizing it is just sleeping till the waking
by a flaming sun promising us a new day

these calm and heart-warming visions calm mine eyes

yet in their periphery have also witnessed pangs of life
in the tears of mother’s loss and the fathers letting go
their sons to that human tragic game called war

being blindly lead to believing they’re way of life is being

threatened, woven through a mesh of distrust and fear mongering
by the selfish needs of the power hungry promulgating
a one option notion only; to eliminate challengers to their hoarding ways

Nature’s bed has been scathed and ravaged by the uncaring hand

where these eyes had once seen verdant fields and seas of joy,
tears flow from smog filled air once where Eagles called their lair
now falling through grey sky onto the scorn of Earths disrepair

in the slightest of soft voices coming from the nights  

are the lamenting hearts from our children begging, outright
through songs of hope pleading to us if love still remains within
our souls to leave them forests to play amidst and oceans to sale
and with their own eyes, maybe, to see that rainbow in the sky

 

in dedication to imaginary garden with real toads 

 

 

dreams and aspirations

my daily moments are filled with aspirations

Nature’s stimuli and thoughts of tomorrows
titillated by music, by the waft of flowers,
the morning’s feather choir and exhilarating sunsets
in my life
 
yet i reflect upon the children whose tomorrows
are not theirs as they sit atop Sinjar mountain air,
hunger no longer an exigent need even though
days have passed without food or water

cold has been their breath of night and stars

the only light. cries of pain are muffled by mothers
hand to silence the echoes in caverns that
now even mountain goats decry
 
all, fear the guns of predators who care little
about life and hunt them as game so they sit
cold, mute and afraid wondering if the souls of their
love ones left behind in a stench of aridity,
will they ascend in dignity, to their god
 
i turn and toss in between fresh bed sheets
soft pillows with my love ones next to me
dreaming of the days journey and my tomorrows
whilst the unsuspected cravings but for a crumb
or warmth of shelter is the moaning call of a family
just around the corner from where we lay our heads
 

a mother waling over the body of her son as he lay

on a street in Ferguson where the blood of intolerance, bigotry

racism flows rampant. and a pungent smell of diesel fuel

and black smoke cloud the light of night lanterns

on buses crammed with discomfit children corralled and

being returned to their abusers they sacrificed to escape,

now unwanted by a nation that sings to them its praises

of ‘... give us your hungry and your down trodden’

 
i lay awake and pray to a god I now don’t believe in
yet I ask that the hungry get food and the frightened
find shelter,  that the mothers tears get comforted
and find ameliorative tolerance for her other children
so they may find a place to lay down in warmth
and  their wishes and hopes at least in dreams
will be filled with aspirations in their tomorrows  

 

grimace of my moon

the moon grimaces watching over me

for three nocturnal days now
seemingly it knows of my tossing and turning,
whilst my eyelids closed, that my dreams
are fraught with tales of angst and fear
as my jaw is locked, my hands clenched in fists,
my legs rise up and down like torrent waves
in ocean storms and tears roll down my face

my soul, recently, has been battling with thoughts,

with memories, of my life's past, where I have
walked away from mother’s crying and a child
abandoned on the dirt and mud streets of a
foreign land as bright red blood runs through it
and me holding a rifle in my hand

i can feel the grinding of my teeth, the

sweat run down my face but in the color red
as if wearing a crown of thorns placed upon
my head and the burdens of pain and anguish
resting on my shoulders as I lay here, nails through
my hands onto the bed while the wrestling of my legs,
raising of my chest and head unable to rise
from this supine place as the weight of demons
atop too great

suddenly my eyelids fling wide open and they’re

engulfed in the dark but I can see a grimacing moon
staring down at me with the sound and thumping of
‘a tell tale heart’ . thrice now in a fortnight
i’ve awaken in this way and my pillow is wet
with sweat and tears and the bed sheets rung in
the same. so I no longer can lay down to sleep
but on my recliner in an upright seat   

dreamers

heavy is my heart filled with tears

for the world is being run by
angry deposed souls that believe...
to destroy all that they cannot possess
will leave them with what they wish

they know not that the possessions

they will attain will tether them to
a world without riches   

we who live in a dreamer’s world

one of hope and empathy, one that
embraces rather than pushes away,
an open hand in lieu of a taught fist

whose eyes are open to see the vision

of night stars, tries to reach up and touch them
who lies down on a field of wild flowers
and roles around in them with delight

if another hurts he tries to support, lends

a hand where he can and shares his bread
even when he has little and both will take
pleasure in the little which then becomes
insatiably fulfilling

just maybe, those with the folded fist

the angry heart will release their grip
and observe that sharing yields joy
and they may choose to join

but I live in a dreamer’s world

and so I wish not to awaken

 

reflection of beauty

she stood there looking at herself

the reflection of Michelangelo curves soft silken skin
both arms hang naturally, fingers in tact,
two shapely legs that would entice

she walks closer to the mirror and observes her long
sinuous now gray white hair still full and rich
eye lashes long, flutter seductively
translucent azure eyes look deep into her heart

a smile evinces with lips that make still air

swirl and turn into hurricane winds
then tilts her head to see that pretty lady
across in the reflection doing the same

her fingers flick the light on and off   

her silhouette moves about surreal
she leaves the light off, opens the blind
the suns fingers titillate the contour
of her body casting her shadow against the wall

she recalls of lovers that came before

telling her she wasn’t pretty enough or too fat
a father demanding her to wear something less tight
cover her curves because she looks like a slut

she’d sit in the corner at night and cry

not liking herself, thinking others felt the same
gave up on school not wanting to be seen
she'd sit in a dark corner and read and read 

she'd picture her life, vicariously, in the
characters of these books of lovers

who loved them and fathers did too

she'd then stand in front of the mirror
wondering who is that beautiful woman in there

she realized when she tilted her head

she was me and I was her

beautiful skin, lovely hair and eyes
with curves that the greatest of artists
would paint and so she left the blinds open

the sceptor holders

we are groveling to find the makeup

of our nature, to understand
our blindness, our insensitivities
we stand and shout words
of ignorance so that we can’t hear
truth in the winds of yesteryear
and those that now swirl about
in our midst

we dare not claim ourselves

as the sculptors of this dying earth
although we are the scepter holders
nor are we to blame for the skies
having darken before the day turns
to night and the rivers no longer the
springs that once sate life’s thirst,
the oceans where terrestrials gestated
are now but a death knell to the life
born to breathe its waters and soar
within its waves as birds do through
the clouds in the sky

we don’t wish to look into the reflection

before us as it depicts the uncaring demon
we so fear in our religiosity and not of
the god-like image we were to be
thus we choose to create a nihilistic destiny
of blind uncaring destruction, of that
reflection we so not want to be and so
as indeterminist beings we are free to choose
a spirit of life to perpetuity where love
is its wrappings or do we continue in the
demons path of uncaring destruction

you of bone, flesh and blood, of sea water

of earth, of air, of fire, I cry for you but more so I cry
for our children and theirs who may never see a tree
sway in the wind, an elephant blow its trumpet,
a lion roar, a dolphin chirp, the whale blow its hole,
the eagle soar onto its aerie or hear the wolf howl
its lamenting cries for the human souls that so
wantonly were forced to fly like birds in the sky
 

*dedicated to the HK17 298 souls

a bird's song

oh you feathered singers that wake me

hearken the new day even before the yellow gold
affixes atop the trees and gentle warm shards
of light splay into my window tickling the fancy,
the verve of my soul

how you whisper in the mornings ear

with the grandest of cheer
the sound of your voices fluttering about
in the morning’s nascent air allows the love
within me to ascend

your melodious celebration inspires the spirit

of life to enter into my heart so that I may
charge into the light of day and embrace those who
are starved for joy, those whose mingling may
bring misfortunes their way

thank you for this moment of wondrous delight

that assuages the pains of aging, that but for
the slightest of time mitigates the lament of loss
and lessens my hearts anguish for the mother
who cries in the dark whose children have less
 
sing on, sing on my friends of the sky, you, who  
can soar above and bring the news of far away
inspire a curiosity in the spirit within me
to where you’ve been, what you have seen
and from you’re perspective of we, human beings

 

a fallen leaf

sometimes I feel like a fallen leaf

who has lost its verdant colour
and lies brown and dry rolling
about as the winds swishes

strange feet fling me about

sometimes I’m stepped on and
at the mercy of someone’s soul (sole)
they scrape me off sometimes
on a shaggy thingy in their home

they care less that at one time i

was fresh and a vibrant green
that kissed the canvas of the
azure sky for their eyes to behold

i would glitter in the morning

wearing my attire bought at the
store of morning’s dew reflecting
a rainbow of colors from the firry
yellow and the sun’s crimson hue

if only they’d remember how once

a hand leaned against my arboreal
abode whilst he leaned over to kiss
his lover as my cousin lay gently
like a ornament in her hair

or when my niece and nephews would

glide atop the tiny ripples in the stream
as it glistened down the bend humming
splashing o’er stones telling of their
journey of what it’s seen, where it’s been

sometimes I feel like that leaf that is

waving goodbye to its nest and haven
as it flits and flutters down, down
to be soon forgotten and kicked about
brown and dry, dry and brown

 

*for Poets United at midweek. like grace, no UFO stories but I am considered ‘alien’ in some circles. also, Grace’s, every day amazing, lovely reflection: midpoint, assessing my life

…the past falls away like brown dry leaves falling into summer downpour…

 

lover's nocturnal breath

 

as the dawn now rests and the eyes of the morning

open, an aviary choir rejoices in the freshness
and too, your tangerine colored cheeks lying next
to me, eyes that smile matches those of the new day   

you walk into the air where i have breathed

where my whispers were meant for the wind
to carry them onto the ripples of the seas
where keels and hulls have sailed long before

your smile convinces me that your soul understands

of how time through ages does not erase the words
by two lovers sharing whispers of how their hearts
will forever ride as white caps o're the waves

and the moon with nocturnal fingers raises the tide

to quench the thirst of night time sponges in the sky
only to dispense onto the arid land the tears
of love and lovers who long before and forever will
ride the breathe of lunar winds

 

 

Lately

my tears have flowed so readily

                             Lately
the membrane where they are held has
been pricked by the demon of distraught
                             Lately
my heart no longer embraces the joy
of the day, the moment
                              Lately
the hand of verve has released me
from its grasp
                              Lately
my eyes no longer wish to look
without the prism of tears
                              Lately
my hands no longer want to reach
and touch the silk of hair
                               Lately
no longer wish to feel the soft and sinuous
small of back
                               Lately
desire to kiss between your toes as you
squirm to pull away
                               Lately
touch first with my finger tips then
my lips to yours
                               Lately
if i can no longer tenderly wrap my arms
around you like i wish and the desires of lust
between two game filled  lovers not be tended
then all of love shall be in the dark of
                              Lately  

    

dance, america ?

i am anguished

        angry within

      disenchanted
         disheartened
            disgusted
 

                  observing the incomprehensible

daily, ugly words are spoken and written
             so much ignorance   
         unmitigating human insensitivity
                   
         why so much uncaring
                  so many hungry
                           so many hurting
 

                       we choose to kill

          rather than save life
 
    choose to hate
                 rather than understand

          contaminate rivers, oceans

                        fill the air with poison
                             both with smog and words 

if we wish to correct or try to speak up

          we are scolded:

   “…if you don’t like this country then leave,
…we like the mire we live in, we like our guns,
    …the government is our enemy so we don’t vote
      …we are a country of rules and laws
…if I don’t like you, you’re not following my rules,
      and your breaking my laws
              i must use my gun or prisons i built
…i’m a Christian because i go to church for an hour on Sundays
       …everybody in america should be a Christian?
   ..Jews and Muslims should convert, force all those other
                  fake religions to self deport
        then we'd all get along with our own kind,
           ...then we'd have our own President not a Kenyan 

america, can we learn a different dance, ok? 



* for Marian @imaginary garden with real toads: