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Piano for S.
Eyes kissed by sunlight
Doors open beyond
the third horizon
You carry love in your lunar body
Your body of rainbow, silence and piano
My nails slowly turn
into white seahorses
Sounds of water water water water sound water
Earth magnets
calling the goddess
in beauty, love
and sapphire stones.
Grey nets of love.
Grey nets of love.
Jewels on your
gentle, naked, electric
body
Heart of light
Heart of the pterodactyl
Heart of sunshine
Heart of death
Heart of the native ox
Heart of wild honey
19 comments:
heart of the pterodactyl is nice :)
A curtain drops around,
Curtain of conch sounds and seas.
The Muse spun out of control,
Now descends to peace
At this station of Light.
:)
Light, moon, gypsies,
Fire, songs in motion, fan-spread of love,
Ether, Madness, a beautiful shock inside.
Now They rise, now turn,
Breaking free of infinity,
The Fire spreads,sings and sleeps,
Another desire.
Forestfire.
Falling into the thousand deep layers of innocence, lions with red eyes, camps of men awakening to the sound of vultures, I call you thrice in the voice of a flying creature.
Nine flutes of moon say,
There’s something alive,
Inside the heart of Thunder.
The answer comes thrice,
Bathed in chanting rubies.
Merged with stotras ,
Wild with light.
It collapses with echoes,
Of the bohemian night.
And dust appears in a blue storm,
Words become gods, you adorn
your hair, with flowers and music,
Evil, fair lovers arrive in staccato footsteps,
Here she wept, as he took her beneath the winds,
a holy sin begins.
The Storm takes over,
Rare aura time.
Tears,Esmeralda tears,
Her thoughts arch back,
Symphony ,mirrors, glide-slide,
Barefoot Arabian tunes,
Confide.
Inside her chest,
Tales of wonder and peace,
Confessions melt in sweat,
Camels and harpsichords,
We reveal the golden touch,
Veiled so long, in winter,
Myths and truths sing,
At the marriage of the trees,
Summer is a love prophet,
And you, my girl, what is that light in your lips?
Crushed sandal and rose,
Make havoc in the winds,
Storm centre spins,
Spilled perfume boxes,
Nymphs and silhouettes,
Of classic feel,
Surround,
They rush underground,
That sound evolves,
To wings of flight,
That maybe ,
The wish of Light.
Look beneath,
The floor is turning into a lake of lotuses,
There is a fire burning through love ceilings and skylights,
Are the horses alive?
Are the horses dead?
Where are words born?
The words turned into lotuses
and kissed the piano,
The vultures make love
at the beak of silence
Winter flute,blood and Persian moon
Those anklets are here again
with your holocaust song
Portrait of peace, atoms
spin and un-spin,
wings of mirror princesses
catapult of colours in her breast,
winding like police sirens.
Aurora of blinding sex,
a religion of light.
Your words learn to die in sleep.
peace.
Shine, through the lovers' apartments,
the city and its sounds form a
harmony, a forest choir speaks to satellites,
ears, neck and diaries,
remember her innocence at dawn,
and her angel song, her animal song.
Her animal song dreams
in the tower of rain,
the lovers move with salt,
and compasses.
her face gives birth to a city,
her hair become time.
I only speak to the dead sky,
at the funeral of birds.
a ritual of river and trees...
Your dreams are blades
of the autumn sun,
white,scentless, unspeaking.
Walk into my dream,
Hear me sing of electricity,
Let matter change to light,
And silver to fire,
With hearts the colour of war,
With hearts the shade of clock-towers,
Let me light the candle in lonesome rooms,
And pray.
Liquid diamond worlds,
Trickle down his hands,
But rooms breathe life,
No, not there,
Here, look here,
Krishnachura reds,
Grow in prayers,
His prayers for,
Soul and Sighs.
Lets go-let go,
Candle burns down,
Come lets drown.
Let prayer change to protons
proton of dreams,
proton of love,
proton of time.
why does the moon hide
in ancient radio signals,
crawling in smoke and wax?
why does the child explore
the geography of time?
time is another light,
your dream another silence.
The air is changing, changing,
Dry scents from deserts far away,
I sit alone and breathe in beauty,
breathe out poems.
The mind in its own geography,
The body in its own timeline,
I move among the crowds like a spirit riding a cloud,
Kalidasa, stay for a while, inside my poem, and sleep.
I'm always a bit uncomfortable about commenting on poetry -- I don't write poems so I don't feel like I have any business commenting on them. But because of our conversation, I'll make an effort :). I've been reading your poems for quite sometime. Some have spoken to me, some haven't. But this one really got into my skin. I loved your choice of words, the images you wove in. They stay inside you much after you shut the window containing the text. For me, that's the kind of poetry I love. Keep writing :)
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