Thursday 23 October 2014

Reasons


Let me count the ways:


The day is a splendor in glass
Weaving my brokenness to light

My memories, sepia & rust-veined
Ignite with colour & shades of robust wine

Though the pinery oaks are shedding fast
My eyes are glad of piles of sweet apples

Of plums, pumpkins, & pears in baskets
The sun burns, soft as milkweed

I tally fallen maple leaves on ground:
Orange brown, yellow corn, russet wood

As I lay my head on bed of wet leaves
Your eyes are crinkling of sky

I hear murmurings of starlings  
I taste the pulp of orange tamarind fruit,

Shaved ice on purple yam & custard-
Bread, newly baked, is honey on my tongue

Your kisses, hard of passion
Swirls my skin to roaring sea tide 

Where but here
Leaves flame until the last dying breath

You are the beekeeper,
Keeping my heart a seed

In this garden of nettle sage,
blue cornflower & lavender


You are the reason I stay




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - List Poem - Hosted by Tony M ~

Tuesday 14 October 2014

Milk & Honey



Music weaves in our
                                        story

Once when we were
                                        young

Running around city
                                        lights

Perfume of flowers on our
                                        arms

We rock town with milk &
                                        honey

Jazz & blues & reggae
                                       notes

Climbing faster, we shake 
                                       & sway

Now the sky is a mellowed
                                       apple

Watching every moment
                                       turn

to ripeness.   Time is a
                                       bass

guitar strings on slow
                                       tempo

keyboards & horns bubble
                                       lazily        

You, who still plucks
                                       flowers

from air & kisses me wild at
                                       night        

Get lost in rhythm, a
                                      river

Pulsing, electric waves 
                                      fusion

Of soul & instrument, while
                                              i                                              

Marvel how we love each
                                       time

The beat goes on, on &
                                       on


Photography by :  Benoit Courti



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Anthony D ~
I'm listening to some reggae roots music ~  The title is from one of the songs ~

Sunday 12 October 2014

A distance divides us

What the blood moon stirs, contains you  
a pearl oyster against the lilac clouds

What the sky silvers, turns the past
to water of memories and foam

What the maple trees bare, skins the
night to fragments, fragile by time

The cold wind sands, awakening
me, frozen in our memories

I watch dawn unfold, its fingers threading
a spider web, marbled in infinite blue

To the deepest of the wells
I draw you, scent of shadows & pines

Your image smiles in its pure circle*
But what of your face as I reach to touch you?

It wavers, growing old, belonging 
to another*

Title and line inspired by E. Montale's poem, The Well

(Cigola la carrucola del pozzo)


The pulley of the well-shaft creaks,

water rises to the light and dissolves you.
A memory trembles in the refilled pail,
an image smiles in its pure circle.
Touch your face to evanescent lips:
the past wavers, grows old,
belongs to another…
Ah, how the wheel groans
already, returns you to the dark depths,
vision, a distance divides us. 




Frozen in Water
Photography:   Brooke Shaden


Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - We are getting inspiration from by 
E. Montale's work and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~ 

Thursday 25 September 2014

Death wish




water
pulled me quickly
to tides deep & brooding-
a part of me defied the rush
of drowning but the sea opened its arms
pillow soft, the pain receded
gentle as needle prick
i want to fall,

falter

on my own terms
i don't wish for slow death,
for  terrible  decay of  mind
to break me inch by inch, no i want to 
leave with purple blooms on my hands,
with your face close to mine
your love ever
stronger 




The quiet death
Photography:   Brooke Shaden


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Hosted by Gay - This is a diamond shaped Quarrels form with set rules ~ I am not sure if I followed it, smiles ~ Please check in later at 3pm EST ~

Sunday 21 September 2014

When your voice is like rain

The sky is a single brushstroke
of aquamarine 
Though many voices speak

Yours is like amber

Yours is like saffron
yellowing my tongue of spice

Even above glass floor 

the wind sweeping the leaves in
tiny islands  

Yours is like violin

Yours is like bow
piercing 
clouds
streak of fire,
veins careening open
pupils dilating in rushing tide

catching me

in autumn's early shroud 
How can I forget your voice?
You ripple all my memories
like whispering birds with nowhere to hide
you
who fly with them

you
who always come back with bluest of plums


Many voices speak.*
Through them all
I hear only yours
falling as a night rain.

      
Inspiration and lines from Karin Boye:   Many Voices Speak


Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Sunday's Challenge:  Swedish Poetry hosted by Bjorn Rudberg - We are writing to the poems by Swedish writer Karin Boye

and Poets United

Picture credit:   here

Tuesday 2 September 2014

three faces of the moon


moon over basel



sketch me a round moon
above grey sheen of city lights
draw long bridge over river
the night is a symphony
silvered blue, when you're with me


~0~0~


ivory & ink
shading the canvas star-strewn:
spirals, patterns, glass
the night is a mosaic
flaring between our bones


~0~0~


moon shading our eyes
river moulting its skin
wind slithering softly-
the sky night thrums, speaking 
a language of its own



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Sketch it Out - Hosted by Mary

Saturday 30 August 2014

Ghostwriter


Waiting for her wolf


pen me a memory
of a gypsy wolf

dark golden fur
streaking across forest

thick of bird cries
piercing marsh-waisted oak trees

set her pulse
beating madly as red moon climbs

& rides the sky
hard, there's no holding back

hunger in eyes nor claws
aching for hard flesh & raw blood

spill on white pages
her ravishment of night, musky & salty

split her thighs
into hundred aching valleys, thrilling

to chase & mayhem,   
storm of release & splendor of

rending boundaries apart
they are hers alone to mark & own

or lose
to the one true love who always set her free

frame by frame
capture this moment, poignant as last kiss

she is my kindred spirit
caught in glass cage, wintered by 

fa d i n g
m e m o r   i   e    s



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~  I fear losing this voice, my other persona ~  Thanks for indulging me & wishing you happy weekend ~  

Thursday 17 July 2014

At Poet's Ball

Tonight, red wears me 
a language I have forgotten

Wild mustard, scent of summer rain
Taste of plump mango, beat of salsa dance

My mask sighs 
I love being a woman who adores lusty words 

But does my color matter  
when you see right through me 

Underneath lace & lipstick  
The moon is our twin sister

Keeping our secrets until ink drips
from our fingers, where words war

with bees in seducing flowers for a kiss 
Don't mind me at dessert & wine corner

Sipping slowly each passionate voice 
from sonnets, haiku to free style street verses

Here's my card
Let's kick up a storm

Because when poets gather
words on the floor stir, awakening

between knot & blossom
between cusp & flight

I begin a collection 
of apple seeds for long winters ahead

Tonight, I celebrate with you 
words as art

a language I have forgotten

From: the lady in red 




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Happy Anniversary !!!


Picture credit:  here

Wednesday 9 July 2014

Summer storm



the night bursts
a tinderbox on my hands -
      what was closed, dilated

&

           leaned forward  
defying lines & customary ex-
     change of words

rain seeps
a dark splinter in my bones -
      what was keyed up, flayed

&

struck, firebolt
dripping down my thighs, turning everything
              fresh wound








Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Word List from M (grapeling):  fresh, burst, defy, chain, struck, forward, exchange, customary, prefer, close
& Poets United - Keys

Saturday 28 June 2014

a tango dance



it's the guitar strings that tricks
my eyes into believing i'm afloat on dance floor
fluffy skirt held by thumbs
one foot paused, as if on mid-air flight
chin up, ears perking to drum sounds

until a strain of notes limber
like glass blowing into a bubble in one exhalation
your lips
curved, rolling back, slice of sun-dappled wave 

You lift me, as if we are crossing over the threshold
The edge, 
I don't keep watch over your shoulders
As you set me loose, in a twirl, in a loop
To catch me again
Swaying, 
The long moan of dance snaps,
dilates, wraps a fire
seething like first day of summer
All the words are not enough in the flare & tumult

But for your eyes, stormy in the after shade
And I am breathing hard
Pulse stirring, my appetite
leaps like an arrow
threshes in the crest & down your back-

And we are dancing again as if the night will never end -




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~
Picture credit here:  

Sunday 22 June 2014

Summer sky


is a halved peach,
swelling of sugar, red  
on your tongue, rain 





We keep watch of summer fireflies
Flitting of orange red
Dazzling of lights, a symphony
Cloaking night with silk threads 

       Let's stay

               under the stolen sky

            twining

As two seed pods, marking
Time a bandit, for come sunrise
All too soon, we're parting 


The above poem follows Robert Herrick's stanza form:

x x x x x x x a
x x x x x b
x x x x x x x c
x x x x x b
d
x x x x x d
c
x x x x x e
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x e 



Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Play It Again
& Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~

Picture credit:   here

Thursday 19 June 2014

Eve of summer solstice

I carry the darkness of the moon
Its scar is the long shadow swelling
on my cheeks

I am packed and ready to go
To northeast meadow, my pockets
waiting for summer

I want to know what you believe
for us:  are we reckless like black crows
or growing as taproot

Here, where the seasons move like clock
Red-tipped, guzzling of morning dew  
Brown-fallen, nipped by evening wind

Tell me our story again
How we met, how we watched dawn
tiptoe its feet above sea tides

How you kiss me so slowly
As if time is slow twister, kite-tangled 
As if time is language, lost in your eyes  

Let me not lose my way
Let me not shatter into thousand pieces
           ink, thistle, seeds

before I find
That it's you that makes the longest day
sun-dappled, delicate silk as dragonfly wings

Let me come back whole
Let me remember & touch you once again

My second skin
My wild river




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

Thursday 12 June 2014

The strawberry and pepper game





I braid strawberries

on my hair,

vanilla blue shaken, I

preen searching for right

combination of

pivot & percussion 

spices & silence

much like

sugar & tomatoes

hot chili & chocolates

salt & freshly ground coffee

to say my words

pepper-dashed, sultry cream on your tongue.

My head is a pickle of contradictions

Which you don't mind at all

I pucker my lips

bloody ruby, half bowl of moon, 

& wait for you to

read my scrumptious invitation.

One thing I'm not:  brain-

washed lobster fingerlings in your soup-




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Connecting the Unconnectible ~Hosted by Claudia S.

Picture credit:   here

Thursday 5 June 2014

Moon-struck


I cup your face with my hands
like white tulips

in full bloom
But then everything with you 

is a bud
or flaring leaf

when the moon draws its bow 

to amber our skin
with harvest of the season

The sting of joy, lilt of crimson tide
engulfs me

Mingling with a taste of sorrow 
for fleeting moments of spring

Double-edged, the night orbits
into its own mystery-

We can't carve nor grasp it
but in silent reverence 

let it wash over us 
speaking its own words & perhaps

bearing flowers so rare
we melt as if our bodies are on fire- 

How beautiful the moon rises
now

As I embrace you  
with all tenderness in me 

Whatever words brim on my lips
is inadequate, language fails me

each time
I love you





Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Brian Miller
Picture credit:   here

Saturday 31 May 2014

Black and white






Is where sky & road
meets

&
collapses

Salt chafes my back
Where

he rides me hardest

The weight of him in my grain
His kisses

land on my hands
like two small birds 

I can barely rise

above burdens that weigh me

down


I write this poem 
to put an end on this curse.


Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - 55 Word Challenge
and Izy's This Poem is a Curse

Shared with Poets United

Thursday 29 May 2014

Five chords to rain


Gold Teardrop by Anne Marie Zilberman


When the pink and gold specks of dawn illuminated the small room, she was ready to let go.   To stop clinging to what can be.  To cease dragging her feet for another uncomfortable night at the hospital couch.  To will her eyes to sleep and hanker for dreams that would not come.  She was so tired from worry and exhaustion of searching for the cure to ease his pain.   The battle is now coming to a close.   After a long night, his eyes had become tranquil, as if he had found his haven.   

Closing her eyes, a teardrop falls.   The chorus of spring is melancholy.   Two, three, now a cluster of rain.  Four, five, she is drowning in the perfume of sorrow. 


low river tide 
a lone seagull glides above -
white bleeds from my eyes   



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


Tuesday 20 May 2014

May sky, spring songs




Come rain, early & hasty
I am lean & bare as taproot 

Come sun, wild as dandelions
Fingers seeding soft soil

Come lost with winter memories
But musky earth, thick of pine cones

& dewdrops until
Dawn crowns my hair with greening buds

You cup my face
As you would a flower, blooming

sturdy, bucking the cold spell
Weighing down full symphony of spring  

I hear
anyway, echoing of samba nights 

Lean closer as if I am holding

knot of your beating heart

The symmetry of our seasons
burns
              Riding, cresting, falling
                                        until
We are a single petal

Resting under boughs
pink against wood, lush of lavender sky  

Where you are, I am
Ink, color, swelling honeycombs

Fragrance of new day
seeps, awakening

Because I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.


“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.” 
― Pablo NerudaTwenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair


This is my third time to use this quote every spring time, smiles ~  I never tire of it nor of Neruda poems.  
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub ~  Hosted by Mary ~

Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday 15 May 2014

Spring madness


dark skies, lithium clouds, 
wild green flames

-  spring


 ~0~0~0~   

                                            
morning's mad rush towards 
white tulips

- bees
                                             
                                          
 ~0~0~0~   


we are rain-drenched to skin
moist as buds  

-  sparks


~0~0~0~    

purple night thrums above
pearl-strung moon

-  kiss





Posted for D'verse Poets Pub ~ Tilus Form (6 - 3 - 1 syllable) created by Kelvin M ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Saturday 10 May 2014

Sorrowful Songs


Remove the cloak from your eyes

What you see as shadows are bubbles   

What you deem as cracks are stitches 

To you, born into war

A lover's face is a poised gun, ecstatic for more




Blood, but I'm not made of red dust & chipped wood

For you, I would be

seeds, dried & salted for next season's harvest

leaves, bottled in oil & strained for autumn's feast

fruits, sugar-stirred & melted warm, sweet wine

If only you can rein in the beast inside 



You, the one turning your honey tongue to stone

And strikes a fist from dead bone heart

Even in your murderous gaze,

I will not drift away, helpless as small bird  

Here is my offering - a healing, a moving of wings-

a flare reflecting my mother's face.  

  

She is a survivor too.








Sorrowful Songs:  Duet



Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - I am hosting featured artist, Susie McMahon's  arts & dolls ~ Please check out the link for more poems ~

Shared with Poets United

Happy weekend & Happy Mother's Day ~

Thursday 1 May 2014

Sonnet: When love conquers distance



I say goodbye now with bittersweet tears
The ten days have gone so swiftly like sands
Blown away by your golden smile.   You spear
My chest with longing.  Come and hold my hands

One last time.  Before I board the airplane 

I draw a kiss, long & deep.  How my pulse
Quickens & flames with your soft touch.  Insane
I am to believe 'tis love, not mad impulse

Shadows inside me, wounds long ago, flee 

Doubts crippling my words, fade & disappear
With you, mornings become glorious to see 
Dappled blue-pink, I dream of you so near

So close I hear you whisper a sacred  

Vow, Soon !  Our lives, twining, undivided !   





Inspired by Blogging Love Story by Keith & Beate - I take poetic license, smiles ~  Congrats to the engaged couple ~


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Shakespeare Sonnet - 14 lines with abab cdcd efef gg rhyme scheme.


Sunday 27 April 2014

Resuscitating Ophelia


                                                       Ophelia, by Odilon Redon


I gather her - limped hair & pale bones
Out of the water,  bedraggled as washed-

out page, skirted & flamed
by love's complicated twists & turns -

I brush the wild flowers from her cheeks-
Scrap away dead leaves & tangled roots-

Gently, I press on her lips- sip this brew
Stirred with orange & yellow seeds

Mixed with tea leaves & sea-
weeds,  stained with effervescent salt-  

Hovering pollen dust swells
Into pools of blue sky-  

Open your eyes & hear the murmurings
Of cinnamon trees, of red-song birds

There's a place for your dreams, sacred
& untouched by anyone but

you
Beautifully shaped by love & will

There is the garden
Where you can run freely & be

My hands will guide you, a step at
a time, until your voice grows stronger

Again,  Love is madness
But you are braver than you can imagine-

War & peace, ink & sword 
Your hands can birth & hold them, fiercely as sun-

There's a murmur, I hear -
There's another beat, I see you

Rising once more,
My beautiful daughter


Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Play it again
& The Art by Odilon Redon
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~