sounds
the unique clicking and pressing
all things
against each other
the clever intimate grinding
a light intuitive noise
hardly waiting
gravel crunching
no fear
no hesitation
a natural pop, clap, whisper and weave
two forms meeting
a zen uniting
skin of one form beguiling
a tapping flickering
glance
a crisp connection
fleeting
a clandestine romance
kissing
peeling off
swiftly departing
no investment
perfect union
more art? visit me at http://www.artofkundalini.com
A poetic work inspired by Hannah Papacek Harper’s beautiful collection of poetry, keep your eyes and ears open for that name, she is a talented and wise young woman and creates with words from the pink sea….
Under Earth
pick me up and cast me to the wind
i trickle into your hands
full in my blue
torn and gleeful
i am
smothered by the poor riches of my mind
i start as reason ends
in the eaves
through the castle of orange and crumbs
i fly
i am the white bird
i forget my name…..
the air
breath
caressing without prudishness
songs only you might whistle
your hum
leading me…to where time can not catch up
oh nothing
i worship nothing
it is everything
with nothing the obscure corner is filled
forgotten dust of antiquated craving
brings only its own anticipation
and on the edge of understanding we wake to the arms of sand
with wings there are no edges
between the drops of light we are
too free
too open
freshly cracked
we drift out
little pools of pleasure
splashing in each other
under green skies
foaming across sad blues
nothing has been softer
a place under earth
more art? http://www.artofkundalini.com
the cotton river
weaves its army
tells a story
of gore and glory
coursing with deliberate delicacy
perfect rows
and streams
of
golden soldiers
and courtesans
the flesh cushioned and fine
swinging side by side
contained
but left to the hand of time
under the gaze of heavy feet
and feigned royalty
they curl
toward each other in a tangled frenzy
a passionate orgy
of desperate frayed
connection
All That Glitters Is Not Gold
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
material
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Daily blog posts on life, death, and everything in between.
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Pain goes in, love comes out.
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
