It’s the way the ocean slides
from your eyes
Slides over lips still full
Rounded and soft
for kissing
(me)
And your arms hang happily never tiring
you climbed a mountain
child,
there you sit an apex
A world of beauty
born from rust
(Infused)
with turmeric and sun
and these vessels sporting
creatures like you
throngs
tsunami’s
schools
of small
rapid things
of heart led dancing
and yet
straw still spins
and the doors
are blowing in the wind
see more art? > http://www.arnabaartz.com
Click here for the full post about my Mum and Dad.
soft flexible sounds
fall
like gently held air
buoyant
easy
a light language
sweet
blended
like your warm cheek
fresh and
unambiguous
on my
maternal dancing
shoulder
more art >>> http://www.artofkundalini.com
Finding the sweet me
is a forever journey
a soul trip
to inner space
amongst the mist
worlds that
exist ed
before I could think
When my heart was jupiter
and you my mother
my father
my feathered gods that
swung me left and right
up up
missing the fan blades
instilling a grounded earthly love
for something
blue and green
a painterly lean
a thick plastering of sensational life
I flew the roads and climbed the mountainous peaks
dancing the backs of cashmere goats
I have breathed shallow on the arsenicum ridges
been plaintive in my call
but strength becomes me now
and oceans float my
salty toes
to shore
Finding the
sweet
in the folds of satin ink
amongst wildflowers and faces
a journey
pink
and incomplete
Lake eyed,
seeking sophisticated lines
in experience only thisbig
.
Bonsai finger, reaching,
one, two, three
un, deux, ,trois
A
B
C
Flaring
YES
FLASH
Concept
IGNITION!
.
The mother
heated, pressing, liquidity
tidal
primal
OH to tend not bind
OH to guide not dam
OH to love not bury
.
Sidestepping
yielding
to
big spirit remembering
For
ever
Mother tree
you
cradled me.
In the billows of steamy transit
whilst time etched a nebulous
reality in ancient air.
And now
you are
holding me
still,
your
warm cool hands,
steadily
grounding me.
Like dirt and stars and love and god,
your grace becomes me.
A game of shame
a shame game.
Solitaire.
I’m game if you’re game
are you (game)
little rabbit?
Can two play?
Dirty names
Sick, lame, filthy, fat,
shame
I’ll show you yours, if you show me mine,
SHAME
that is.
My secret
consciousness
MINE
alone
Small and smelly
down
beneath
From mother to daughter
I do bequeath:
the shame of before
under the floor
close to shore
go to war.
I am
shame,
always the same.
I’ll show you the rules of this tight little game
COME ON
play with me!
It’s not so fun without the pain,
always the same
all ways the same.
~
~
shame finger pointed
a smoke screen activated
two can
not play
shame,
a
personal
denial.
only one may decide
only one
can play.
Shame
a
personal
hand
held to chest
a flush
of love
of self
What AM I
?
it is all just bullshit anyway.....
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything
Poetry
musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry
In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.
Scripting the desires that are soul deep
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Life, Death, and Everything In Between
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Hoping to inspire the world one word at a time.
Sharing my poetry to help end the stigma about mental health
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
