Tag Archives: beautiful

White

wind is breathing shadows

reflecting opposition to outside pushing

my eyes are still and rest upon this vision

my heart signals birds

pulsing forward

I am puppeteering trees

and laughter is

a swelling dance

exhalation turns the page

and here we begin,

with feather

white

and

ink

DSC00130_2

see more art? >> http://www.artofkundalini.com

Advertisements

Some Mute Beast

My response to Rilke’s Duino Elegies number 8

Reaching again, stalking this thirst

for who I am, we are

splitting in parts,

raw light leaking

but blind and believing in

sweet

enduring

allowing

death

public slaying

guarded by pulsing spectre

keen eye follows

flickerings

by bee or ant

marching chaotic to unseen nothing

but not because it isn’t there

to nowhere

but not because it isn’t there

only hidden in syrup and crusty flesh

…. nectar lies puddled on the shore, caged in hopeless thought

but the tapping and seeking

silently thrusting

and

tumbling beasts

spiralling downward

wooly rainbows

skein unwinding

through wells of damp

information

landing

repeatedly

10525779_775163079217906_472661411219007914_n

Beautiful Disorder

 

when my feet touch down

and dust in armfuls spread

like orange sunset

when heat permeates my bones

forcing my chin up

and spine to spark and spin

when my tongue alights on pepper

and my neck twists to engage

when my heart breaks free

to meet the wind

when my words match the angels song

that swirl in echo blue

when elastic skin is rolling under seraphim palms

and my hair is taken up in a cosmic fist

when paint streams from fingertips and soul spreads like water across this land

when lips soft envelop a new dawn in a birth of existential madness

I become

a melody of perfume

a tidal song,

a hot wet bed of divine

I am

my own supplicant

consumed by beautiful disorder

 

From Man To Woman

From Man to Woman                                                 Arna Baartz *2006

 

Beautiful and kind

heart open wide

like womb

or

time,

soft

edges undefined.

Man is here

wants to be

loved we see…..to exist is all.

Making the rough

the tough

spearhead,

the phallic reaching, mother womb

fertile fields a sad man’s tomb.

A question soft and true;

See me? I see you. Please see me? I’m here too.

Out of hand,

far too grand and now we’ve lost the point.

A blood-tipped point,

the taste of salt,

a rusty thing no-ones fault.

Beautiful and gentle

a cry…..short and true;

See me? I see you.

Please see me,

I’m here too.