Leaves

Blow away

My wounds

A poem I wrote quite a while ago that is apart of my Wife Series:

The Wild Man’s Wife

HAHAHA laughed the wild old man
and aimed his rifle between his heart and mine
this romance balances on a needle and thread
too fragile for his liking or mine
he wished mistakes could be undone
down the line and the past rewind
so he shoots the cat lives nine, no fun
for him or for me

HAHAHA laughed the wild old man
his white beard sprouts in direction seven
one for each of my hands a pair:
hands that pray to heaven
hands the clay do mould
hands that sold
hands that gave
hands that forgave
hands that forget
and hands that regret
they dance around his shoulders
hands that clay do moulder
and tip toe through the night
and held on a leash by day
so my avatar is a puppet to his insane game, no fun
for him or for me

HAHAHA dead the wild man’s wife
on and on my death bed lay
staring through wild eyes - no life
in a coffin moulded in clay
too fragile for his liking or mine
he wished mistakes could be undone
down the line and the past rewind
so he shoots the cat lives nine, no fun
for him

A Meeting, with God

You called to me

I responded

I fell asleep

And you awakened me

It is incredible, because

When I awoke, I was completely awake

In one second

I opened my eyes

And my head was as clear as day

Yet it was 2:45 in the morning

I turned on the lamp, and

You told me to pray

And 15 minutes later

You were standing in front of me

I didn’t recognize who you were, at first

You came so quietly

But when I actually looked, into your face

All I could see was your light

The radiance enveloped me

Waves of love permeated me

And I had no words

I just purred like a cat being stroked
Hummed in bliss
Breathed, for the first time

In the white brilliance, I could

See shimmers of different colours

After some time you spoke

So gently

You reached for a painting I did not own
You showed me

The image was faded and tired

And you said

“Don’t let the painting fade, don’t let your dream of becoming an artist die”

I sat there, still absorbing your love

You softly left

And I, without thinking

Opened my eyes

Turned off the lamp

Went back to sleep

And didn’t tell anyone, for months

Something so huge, to comprehend

Chaff Huff

Set me atop a sundrenched ziggurat

Listen as the rain trickles down my temple of heaven

This place was built by farmers

As their quiet selves adjusted straw hats

And went to work, plowing fields

Don’t ask me how the formula goes

All I know is the situation

The plump wheat grew high

And the yellow straws wrapped and entangled

A passionate embrace

The final scenario

Was a castle, unfolding like a parasol

Exploring the flavour, of the summer’s radiance

My architecture has many roofs

More ceilings and numerous staircases

That only go up

But I am afraid, snakes go down

A muralist lived here once, so did etymologist

So illustrator, so doctor

They come and go

But I remain

I can make many things into flesh

-       Autumn leaves, summer, harmony

But can I locate pre-made humanity

That fits with my puzzle?

The ridge of me, the edge of you

The systems function far better

Separately

I just stay in my tower

Made of nature’s string

And pray the wolf that preys

Isn’t all that big-bad

And if he does blow

With every puff of wind I’ll spin

And through a network of connections

He will himself be grinded into bread

The mill and the butcher’s shop

I can be

I do hope that my heaven temple

Can resist change

But wouldn’t it be glorious

If my Babel were to fall

All that yellow grass

My kingdom of hay

Tumbling back to earth

Collapsing as cymbals clashes

I could be chaff in the wind

Let me leave right now

Through the back door

As the sun sets on yesterday

With long shadows leading

I’ll go on the run

Here’s hoping my tower

Is not a wheeled creation

A locomotive of automatic nature

Instantaneously suggesting my capture to itself

And agreeing, determining my demise

Then my dire situation

Might lead me to surrender

Giving up the chase

The fortress, I would hate

The price of protection, is freedom

Safe in my prison

Who new this cereal was made of bricks?

But perhaps If I light a little fire

Paint the town red

Or just send a signal

For help.

Love this Picture :)

Take me there

It’s where I want to be

In the forest, far away

Away from the wars of everyday

My eyes open, sing

Take me there

It’s where I want to be