Tuesday 10 December 2013

Winter, the birthing

The cold bites
everything to black & white

I know the signs:

A spire tightens around my neck 

Knotted of flowers, black

In darkening sky      
wind stings like a bee

Your absence
dear one is harder than

melting snow

salt-christened, blue teardrop

At night
I lean on your words -

womb, flint, amber

& burn
& burn


Process Notes:   Inspired by nocturne journal of talented photographer Kirsty Mitchell.   She went into a deep depression after the death of her mother.   Fascinated by her late mother's fairy tale stories, she created stunning Wonderland photography. 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the vist ~  Wishing you all Happy Holidays ~

Thursday 5 December 2013

Of spring dreams

Peel back the grey,
for winter is long & bare

of tulips, daffodils, roses 
crimson as the sun

Snuff this lonely candle
until watercolors brim the canvas

Insatiable & lush
of colors bright as tangerine

The day ripens like a fruit 
whilst night unfolds emerald garden

Hold me in your arms
like a spring bouquet, my love


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub & 55 words for the G-man ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Saturday 16 November 2013

In Venus

We have the best views:
red sky slurping deeply rim of fire 

As far as our eyes can see
everything is burnt glass & metal

Mountains crusted in mud & basalt 
Heat is a lonely vigil

Wind-scarred, we gather what we
came here for:  rocks & crowns for any evidence of life

Underneath the microscope, we conclude
birthing is possible even in driest & acidic of conditions

We open our mouths
And sailboats winged gold & mauve, scatter

like meteorites that sank our prior
loves to soot & clay 
By afternoon, lightning silvery & violet threads
make us fearless & glorious as pulsing orange sun 

I bring out my secrets at night:  bare
shoulders radiant in candles because there's no moon

in ceiling of storms, only dust
effervescent as wine foaming the plains turbulent blue

We lie down
in the shape of volcanoes, lava & clouds spewing

Soon I am feverish with words
ardently catching everything 

from starlight to tiny dying planets -   
The cosmic wind slows slow
As time floats with us
after discovering we can't handle

black, sumptuous in emptiness
& bottomless space 

Spinning sluggishly,
we lean in like trees

aged amber embracing smoldering planet 
we now call our own.

Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub- Sci-fi poetry hosted by Bjorn ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Please note that I will be taking a short break from writing to focus on my studies ~

Saturday 9 November 2013

Time is water

November makes you thirsty.

      You wake up and the room is flooded

      Water is a good thing, you say
      It is part of the architecture & enhances
      the value of the house
Water is more precious than gold.

      You peer out the window, oxygen-starved -
      Is it strange that you don't freeze when
      furnitures are rain soaked, elated as clouds-

      You have just french kissed your lover 
      but already he is floating  away-
      seaweed hunting, he says -  

You turn away, a wildflower in second place.   

      Where is this storm that you're dreaming:
      unstoppable tides, sky colored flames-

      Perhaps it only exists in your screen saver     
      Or canvas abundant of salt & departing things   

This bottled water is drug.

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Sunday Feature by surreal work of Mike Worrall where I am hosting ~  Thanks for the visit ~  
Shared with Poets United

Saturday 2 November 2013

The ripening


seeped in my bones & cracks


of color I never knew


violet ash black, magenta fire storm, deep rusted orange


keen & deadly came kneeling


appled leaves climaxing before dying


skin darkly yellowed & smoked, a midnight feast 

I embraced 

subversive dyes, wicked hues, riotous tints  

On canvas

they pulse sharp as bleeding rose, thorns 


& thirsty for spring's greening  


me, restless & unknotted


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Colors ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Picture credit:   here

Thursday 31 October 2013

A Vampire's Diary

You wait for me
Night-veiled, intemperate sky         

There's no mistaking glint in your eyes
nor your lips, shaped hungry as quarter moon

leaning carelessly against apple tree
But its not the apples, red & deadly

you are craving for
Not dripping white sap nor blistering roots

But raw flesh & wild
river ravaging my insides

You say you love me to forsake all else -
shallowed past, sun-brushed mornings, even anemic diet  

But I know you
will choose me even if I'm a poisonous tree 

Because without me
You'll grow old quickly

Strangled dry & wanting as autumn leaf
I'll tell you what is wild, tormented, slippery

cold, Here - take this pen  
And stake it through my breast

My ink flows, not crossed with holy ghosts
But full of open wounds

wasted agony & bleeding for life
sentence, not eternal damnation

of feeding and unfeeding
How demanding you've become

Now now

Bare me your neck 
curved warm veins, beating faster than a clock 

You take me:
A cure, muse, lightning 
                                             the storm you dream about-      


Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - To Monster with Love

& D'verse Poets Pub - Wild Beasts -

Thanks for the visit ~   Happy Halloween ~

Saturday 26 October 2013

The unMASKing

Stitched in silver plumes
& music sheets 
it didn't move our skin
to an intricate dance -

No, give us a mask
that makes our faces
alive:  teeth baring, cheeks rouged 

red, nostrils flaring         
to scent of prey & danger - 

A mask that doesn't mistake the
wanting in the eyes.  Nor dims
creamy & heavy lidded as the moon.
No this is the mask
that latches into our
bones & cracks
not smoothening but raving
our edges & unvarnished thoughts
black & primal

hungry for chase
A mask that purrs & wears nothing
but its claws
loving the havoc   
of being put on

The mask that burns
slick words, speaking
in dead languages & ancient chants   

We forget 

our names but this-
                                                                  Here we are -

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Mini - Challenge:  Masks by Grapeling ~
Shared with Poets United
Picture credit:   here  

Thursday 24 October 2013

Rondeau: An Evergreen

         Parijata, Sorrowful Tree

Will you come with me, where the nights
linger long, steeped flowering white
      blooms, aromatic as primrose
      red & full.   The moon will stand close
            cradling our words, silver & light -

Come & take my hands, oiled, stained bright
of saffron.   They're yours to hold tight      
       when all else fails you, I propose -
            Come with me

Be my first love & second sight
I'll bear sun's ire if we take flight    
     This forest, we'll garden a house             
     evergreen, lush of poems & prose    
With sky as sole witness, tonight
            Come with me

Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Language of Flowers
& D'verse Poets Pub - Rondeau Form - that's fifteen line poems using only 2 rhymes, set out in three stanzas of 5, 4, and 6 lines respectively, with a refrain that forms the opening of the first line and the last line of stanzas two and three. The rhyme scheme is Refrain-a, a, b, b, a -          a, a , b, Refrain -        a, a, b, b, a, Refrain.

Saturday 19 October 2013

Tanka poems: Autumn

autumn is like a book
worn, frayed & inked of yellow -
but run your fingers
      along my spine & inhale the words
      they're like flowers, fresh from rain -


petals fading dark edges
leaves bursting in fiery shades
crimson, orange-dusk-
       kiss me like a hungry bird
       ravishing the last fallen apple    


this moon-stained night 
oak trees are trembling behind clouds
smoky black & grey -
      clock ticks a heavy omen, love 
      stay- even if dawn burns us -  

Shared with Poets United ~
Happy weekend ~

Thursday 17 October 2013

the music in my head

my fingers pluck 

taut guitar strings, i shake 

off the labels people have of me: 

hardness, coarseness, shallow words

         &  let the beat inside me move 

         to roaring sea, wind, ever restless

         crescendo, then the lilt, slower drum

         beat, shoulders and hips sway & slump 

i should be writing about broken

emptiness, solemn grey clouds

messy fallen leaves, dirty city air  

but my hands strike a nerve of a mountain   

          & grips a rope to bring me 

          down on my knees, searching for fire:   

          that core that leans to the sun

          those tides that full moon smoulders 

                      the tilt of my gravity moves  

                      towards you, softer cadence, 

                      garden you spring  - from me, of me, with me

                      everything pours out in my music: 

                      another love song 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub,
OpenLinkNight  - Thanks for the visit ~

Saturday 12 October 2013


fruity & fragrant -

      is what an italian sauce should be -   

so what's the secret, i ask -

      time he says, choose carefully the season-

ings & ripe tomatoes - flame-red, elliptical & firm

     not flabby, containing little water & few seeds-

i peel off - skin & seeds - ready for the lesson -           

     (note: oregano makes a bitter marriage with sauce)                      

he starts with a fast saute

     olive oil, garlic, onion, celery, carrot & parsley

i curl into the earthly aroma -

     all senses taut & stirred in what we are creating -  

here's the key, he carefully watches sauce pan -

     the tomatoes natural juices allow the other

sauce ingredients to stand out while it simmers -

     not suffocating (like heavy puree), but enriching flavor -

i imagine my colors swirling in canvas-

     coppery gold with specks of autumn orange, rising in steam- 

cook gently but quickly, he adds -

   & with a flourish, he ends with a dab of olive oil -

don't forget that & this -

    his hand reaches for the wine glass

i swivel in his tongue - lush of grapes & black plums-

    fruity & fragrant-    

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics by Karin G - Anything about Italian, so I went for Italian cooking ~  Happy long weekend & thanksgiving to my Canadian friends ~

Saturday 5 October 2013

Our bodies

    If I am to assemble our bodies

in a canvas

    it will be the distance between pale 

sky and sea

    pounding the wall thick of old trees  

If I am to journal our words 

    in a book

it will be thin & scrawny with hardly

   any quotes

pressed amidst dried roses & frayed ink


So instead,  I will make plump of

    our hollowed bellies &  

smear turmeric & saffron on our faces 

    earth rich, sun-burst colors    

pining eagerly as autumn leaves before falling  


Shared with Poets United Thanks for the visit ~

Tuesday 1 October 2013

At night in the Map Room

We moved in this house with only 3 rooms: 
Map Room,
Mirror in the Sky 
& Elephants are Everywhere-

This how our constellations construct - 

We start our morning in
Mirror in the Sky 
where everything falls 
into our bodies like magnets:
autumn leaves, goose feathers & apple seeds      

Then by afternoon, we scamper  
to Elephants are Everywhere-
Here, you fix broken appliances   
and watch world war II documentaries
while I search for 
Elephants in crossword puzzles
& worn books & labels of bottled jams-   

And at night, we sink into  
Map Room, where you would unfurl
our mast & scatter compass points across the table-  
under a single flame,  
your pirate's eyes search for latitudes:     
east for spices, west for oil        
north for mountain peaks        
finally south, for my diamonds-    

& i would sigh for every X mark you find - 

Posted for:  Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - For Margaret's challenge - To write about Place & D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks to Karin (Manicddaily) for inspiring me to write about Elephants, smiles ~ 

Saturday 28 September 2013

because (( i )) can

fur against skin, 
we discover kinship and language:
vertical emptiness under 

sky, but where
i stall at black void-
you form possibilities

as you hang  
upon bare autumn trees hot 
dripping glue strands

your artist's hands
molding my world to snow -
glazed pristine silver 

suddenly my arms
branch to write blooming roses  
my feet garden 

lush green, i 
weave magical tales:  bear-clad prince, 
stolen treasures underneath

forest trees, i 
tower, my eyes can ((finally)) believe  
what (( i )) can be:

clouds-lifted, fearless, i 
rest words on page ((& nestle close to)) you,  
warm as sun   

SCHNEEWEISSCHEN (Snow-White) by Catrin Welz-Stein

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing poems based on lovely artwork of Catrin Welz-Stein via Redbubble ~
Poetry form:   Collum lunes (3-5-3 words, mostly ha~) 

Saturday 21 September 2013

Tanka poems: Succulent

let's steal the night
succulent as harvest moon
tinged orange flame 
the sky unfurls soft palette:  
lavender, still a blooming 

                                                        Picture credit:  Just a Picture

your verses tremble 
on my weathered lips-
rain, sweeter wine 
wets my tongue mellowed plum- 
flowers bloom beneath my skin 


morning rain 
drips from bamboo stick- 
what 's the colour of longing?
is it brown like autumn leaves? 
   Or ripe peach, fragrant of you?    

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Sunday's Challenge on Tanka form
and Marian's prompt:   Harvest Moon  ~  I welcome your critique & inputs on my writing ~

Thursday 19 September 2013

September moon

I stand by my window:  red skin  
As heat coils on last summer day
Lingering sweet as nectarines  
I lay down pen & verses – stay

As tonight is harvest moon, pinned
So low in sky, orange bouquet -   
Let’s celebrate, I say.   You grin-
Light spills – sunset, moonrise, flaming

Each seed, each grain, a wine so sin-
Fully lush, we collect & weigh   
These nights as silvered gems, claiming
Them as ours, one-of-a-kind   – stay  

I sway

 into the night:  plump orange

A pearl drop above thick maple trees, 

Or a mirage,  silvered  grey  as my hair 

I take out  my  white veil,  now  worn  frail

There is a time to forget,  letting  tides  fall

But tonight, when moon wraps the sky, 

luminous purple,   radiant  bride, 

Remembering is all 


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub  -  Tonight is the harvest moon ~
Poetry form:  tetrameter-trimeter ballad form, using the rhyme scheme: ABAB, ABAC, ABCB.

And 55 moon-lit words for the G-man ~  Thanks for the visit ~

picture credit:   Tumblr.com

Thursday 12 September 2013

The mellow sounds

1992 - Sade

She sings blue 

    diamonds, cold as ice

Saxophone croons low/slow
    swaying, undulating silk

Fingers snapping to

    rhythm of raindrops falling  

I turn wet 

    percussions to crackle/sparkle 

My blood turns red/violet sky

    as I recall your hot burning kisses 

I'm melting, I'm sliding down/ground  

    as she sings blue

diamonds, cold as ice

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Jazzy inspired poems
and 55 melting words for the G-man - Thanks for the visit ~  

Saturday 7 September 2013

don't you remember

nights we stole away like art thieves 
          from the crowds

mid-afternoons we melted like dark 
          sticky chocolates in our hands   

long walks on beaches dotted 
          coconut trees & wooden huts 

boat rides, early morning talks,
          mirrored walls, spicy dishes

you never gave me flowers 
          but one ivory shell, palmed-smooth 

as you traced words on my skin
          imprinted passion, mapled & lush

we mixed colors, painting canvases 
          until we ran out of breath, reasons & time  

swiftly passes by,  leaf by leaf 
         clocking blur as heavy fog hides my tears

autumn air descends once more  
         & you're not here   

slowly, the sea is swallowing me-
         mories dyed in sunset & sands

where do we keep them? i asked -
         in clouds, visible only to us, you said-  
i drink red wine after dinner to
         forget the embers in your eyes

& sky so blue, that shade of blue 
         ink, fire & dust 

         & i remember  

Posted for D'verse Poet Pub - Hosted by K ~ I will be by to return your visits ~  
Picture credit:  Tumblr

Tuesday 3 September 2013


you are looking at me

beyond messy hair 
beyond my crooked nose 
beyond scars, nicks & lines  
beyond my smudged fingernails
beyond lack, trying to fill, almost 
beyond my dry kisses
beyond tongue & spit
beyond my claws & rages
beyond light apologies & heavy silence
beyond these hands, which sometimes forget you
beyond my waistline
beyond moods & unpredictable demands 
beyond my legs 
beyond unpolished, grime & vomit
beyond my cheeks  
beyond sparkle, skin & guts
beyond my history

you are looking at me

and i feel beautiful  

Saturday 31 August 2013

The master chef

he fancied me
like a red plum
cream souffle 

pouring hot milk
& vanilla into my yolk
he stirred me  
rapidly on bowl

to sugary drumbeats, 
i parted my lips into
a believer, sieving  
edges until my skin 
melted butter & salt  

i rose 
warm golden,
to soft peaks,
dusted icing ready 
for the precipice,
soulful bite  

but all I heard 
were crickets
drowning the moon's song,  
as his palette knife   
climbed my neck 
framed in velvet ribbon   

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Inspired by William Carlos Williams work
and Get Listed - Of Catnips and moons

Picture credit:  here

Thursday 22 August 2013

color of last night's moon

she is 
of  his face drawn 
silver and shadow, turning 
towards  her  by  the window-
at last,  the mystery will be  revealed
holding  her breath,  she imagines a
cold mask of death, when at last 
the  moon's  gaze  is complete    
she is awed by his soulful 
eyes, color of sadness 
equal to her

Picture credit:   Elena Kalis

Tuesday 20 August 2013

Of delicate aches

tangled in dry leaves
we reach for our words: rain
soft, moon painted night
of thousands origami
cranes, falling as stars: wholly

these delicate aches-  
we cradle them as the sky  
ignites a fireball
as summer days wane, melts red   
rose petals like snow: pearled black

Poetry form: (Japanese)   Tanka (5-7-5-7-7)
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:   OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~

Saturday 17 August 2013

my letter to the sun

Dear Sun,

What must I do to
burn myself everyday ?

Not palest flicker 
Nor fluttering grasping glow 

But the deep flare,
spiralling fire like tentacles 

rooting from every cell
waking up each molecular grain

That deep hunger
That straddles the everyday

Free of regrets & shame
Without shape & numbers       

Do I take this pale skin and color it 
golden wheat, bursting of bird seeds   

Do I curl my feet into a giant snowball
& hurl myself over the edge of a mountain

Do I leave my lover to
feel the deep ache & hollow of love

Must I lie alone in my bed
to pine for passion, knotted wild & fierce

Must I live in the desert
to treasure my footprints, both steady & faint       

Must I cut my tongue, walk with a limp 
& become blind, to savor each dewdrop

Each bloom, each burning kiss 
a blue sky, a thunderstorm, a moon swell

What must I do to
burn myself everyday  ?


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing letter-style poem or epistle ~   Hosted by Mary

Happy weekend ~

Picture credit:   Tumblr.com

Saturday 10 August 2013

Loving a cowboy

The morning cracks crisp 
indigo & lavender dawn by fire stove

Across the barn, I hear your crooning  
to horses & rustling of hay stacks 

Soon, there is rhythmic beat of hooves,
jiggling of spurs & slapping of saddle leathers-

I always thought of cowboys 
as smooth & handsome as the movies - 

But your hands are rough dirty
With wrestling & roping the cattle 

You don't swagger with your hat 
as you limp slightly on the left foot    

But you tell me I will always see
sunrise & sunset over the prairie with you 

Hear the meadowlarks sing
from the sagebrush & smell the earth

Fresh as summer rain
Soft as wild berries, fragrant as red plums 

You make me laugh, deep 
belly laughter, sounds of home 

wafting down my cowboy heart-  


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Cowboy Poetry

Inspiration from:   Loving a Cowboy

Saturday 3 August 2013

The summer forecast

The rain came, not as soft feathers 
   but hard glass, shattering silver stones 

Against the window pane, rattling noises
   echoing the sudden shift of wind & sky   

I peer at thick curtain of water
   wishing my hands to part & braid    

fibrous & willful knots into a carpet of grass,  
  docile as dandelions waving away their fluffy veils - 

The forecast is a heated discussion:
  where to find & what colors of umbrellas to use, 

how far to drive away from city's thrumming,
  how deep to venture into the forest's bellybutton-

We become volatile as the weather, forget-
  ful of recipes (lemons have dried in silver bowl) -

The trees are brimming with our words:
  today is soft as milk, tomorrow is tart as green apples  

The days bend to whims of the clouds
  And heeds not the gravity & chances of graphs, we   

Make one - swimming with the sun today:
  bare skin, orange wet & drizzled with sands -

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Sunday's Challenge:  Sara Teasdale

Shared with Poetry Pantry ~

Have a lovely weekend ~

picture credit:  here