The stream (all workshops)
Wrap me
in wings of springs
butterfly.
cradle me in
loves simulations
Fly me
across meadows
of scented flowers
pollinating gathering
my hearts motivations
Feed me
with endless passion
preparing
the silk cocoon
of my
Transformation
Carry me
on winds of migration
across the
fields
of life's sensations
Re-born am I
with wings
to celebrate
the spring of my
loves exhilarations
Your vapor brushes edges
my prism scatters time
presumptuous are circles
'round this sultry
sleight of hand.
Your song
a silent symphony
too raw to mend my tears
as it wedges through my essence;
floats half hung with muffled jeers.
Aphrodisiac of
redolence
mid ache of pointed pleasure
your release -
implicit servitude;
a wealth of weight and measure.
On the edge,
a new adventure -
adrenaline courses my veins
She spent her youth in dazzling displays
Many a suitor to her court turned off
Found fault with those who dared
Some with bad body odour, she said
With smelling armpits and mouths
Now, she is a husband snatcher
Her excuses, many and spurious
They couldn’t afford her outlay
Thought herself high and pricey
Lest poverty follow her to matrimony
With hungry looking big-headed brood
So she looked out for a man of means
trace your slender strong finger
down my palm
slipping words and musing
the wrist exposed
cradled in your work
your eyes glancing up
and the maple trees
hissing in the currents
flowing
if life were fair
and if it were so
easy
all the lines
and extensions
reaching
the attonements
of movement
grace and meaning
etched in their
emplacements
to be read
by talents
There you are in your new car
a convertible two seater
on the way to a nudie bar
an old bald headed cheater
At least, you would cheat if you could
but nobody takes the bait
did you really think they would
resign themselves to such a fate?
And now an errant puff of breeze
reveals a Donald Trump comb-over
a result which is bound to please
any girl who looks you over
I know how love has
etched itself into creases of a single night
when we wrote poetry with trembles
and sighs
and sang together in harmony
of heaving hips
above us
the moon spun
stars crumbled
and color was born
as awakening pressed yellow
against thin skin of my eyes
I found myself alone
again
only the shape of you lingered
sculpted in empty wrinkles
between silk sheets
we were down with it the other day
and i bit on a bit of cracked pepper
scrubbing linoleum tiles
doing my Hungarian sadhana
anger and heat mixing with
cold realities
no violins play where no one
dances
blue and red are primary colours
that sing with ruffled feathers
and spilled milk
we laugh
at ourselves
like children with dirty faces
and scraped knees, angels with nothing
up our sleeves
passion is a trembling shell
we put to our ears
and night rolls away the stars.
.
Bluebirds sing
A melodious wakeup call
A familiar scent in the room
Your presence
Freshly brewed tea
The warmth of the sun
Freshness of spring
The beauty of our garden
If I could see it all
Satiate my void
Perhaps
I would be happier.
who can tell if
together we will be
better than the first taste of
new season avocados
seen on hills
above sills of windows
where we lay
in mourning
When I think of you,
a flood of pleasures
flow gently
on rivers in my mind
The memories
we have made together
out last all other life's
which I have lived.
Everything else
is just faded dreams
dissipating like
morning mist on the bays
I live in the present
enjoying each moment
as treasures long searched
with no value outside
our secret realm
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