Thursday, August 28, 2014

Two masks

daylight stitches your face unmoved by wheels
tar-washed by city's million clicking heels
you look for a summer bouquet to melt
this metallic mask to jade, soft as teal 


~0~0~


Artist:  Dale Dunning


the night is a trigger, itching for key
to peel the mask away as bony tree
what price did the fat moon exact from you?
not pearls but your bare heart, black-steeped in tea



Posted for D'verse POets Pub - Ruba'i and Rubaiyiat,  Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg
Thanks for the visit ~

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Star-struck





Neon minted, dance of starlight
descending in flare of simplicity
descending in boat of storm
a temple fiery with language, pales

in the stampede, the deluge
dins and palpates, churning of jar tombs.
Rising, the sea breaks ground, 
recipient of dead flowers.

Pollinated with pesticide 
in pregnant pauses & throes
cats twisting in gold dust 
merrily dancing in their skin.

Neck to groin, clad in vintage
sea is ochre, orgasming in cove
sea knows time raws all 
to nettles, pieces, vacancies.  

Neon minted, dance of starlight
descending in flare of simplicity
descending in boat of storm
a temple fiery with language, pales

in vision, intricate rim roaring
late evening into pools of aurora 
padding to center of fire 
this sea - where nothing stays still.    


This is my own interpretation from this cryptic poem provided by Marina:



Ne-om aminti cândva târziu
de-aceasta întâmplare simpla,
de-aceasta banca unde stam
tâmpla fierbinte lânga tâmpla.


De pe stamine de alun,
din plopii albi, se cerne jarul.
Orice-nceput se vrea fecund,
risipei se deda Florarul.

Polenul cade peste noi,
în preajma galbene troiene
alcatuieste-n aur fin
Pe umeri cade-ne si-n gene.

Ne cade-n gura când vorbim,
si-n ochi, când nu gasim cuvântul.
Si nu stim ce pareri de rau
ne tulbura, piezis, avântul.

Ne-om aminti cândva târziu
de-aceasta întâmplare simpla,
de-aceasta banca unde stam
tâmpla fierbinte lânga tâmpla.


Visând, întrezarim prin doruri -
latente-n pulberi aurii –
paduri ce ar putea sa fie
si niciodatã nu vor fi.


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Homophonic translated hosted by Marina
Photo credit:   Colossal Blog

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Upon finding a map of endless possibilities


A labyrinth
grew under her breast bone
warping her memories
weaved of yellow flowers
whose center arcs to sun's gaze 

Time unraveled
thread upon thread of palest grey
no needle could stitch
back where & how it started-
she was lost ship in deep wide sea

As wind cloaked the night
stone-washed, silted with weeds-
she saw the stars
dotting the sky silver keys
lighting a diamond-shaped map

Beginning with her face
redrawing & stitching 
her arms & legs, calligraphy on
canvas expanding with each breath -

She never felt lost again



Artist:   Hinke Schreuders

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Play It Again - Inspired by  Jorge Luis Borges - become lost in the maze of language, magic & endless possibilities - Kerry's Challenge
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Rain walk


you are walking on air
between raindrops
feasting on changing colors
of leaves, one heartbeat
at a time
as one black umbrella opens
up after another

“Follow me”
says your guts
this is the path
you want to cut out
for yourself:  dream-chaser

oxygen rushes to your lungs
knife-winding & halo-storming
like that first time you flew
kite to crown the sky







Posted for Poetry Jam

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Of paper wings

there is a road map
your eyes are searching

underneath white starched shirt
is your wild heart

no one hears it but you
pulsing river tide

hungry for smell of freedom
wide-angled as blue vein sky

and when the night
fragments your chest to water 

ask the bird for feather bone

ask the moon for verdant light

somewhere a corn stalk is ripening in its time 
you have wings

paper-light, fashioned out of tiny scars
the mirror doesn't show it

but you are beautifully 
made, always 




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing about Joel Robison's Photography ~  I am pleased to be the pub tender for Poetics ~  Do visit and check out amazing images and words ~

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Two triquian


Wind

These pages
unravel a knot, blue
storm underneath ink & silver lines.
I tether on metal, waiting for perfect sage
to point me my journey, foot by foot
But all I hear is wind
lion-maned.






August Sky

colorless
clouds dust my skin opaque 
chattering endlessly until i 
hush them to slide into moonlight arabesques. 
cold snaps last summer blooms as i write
away.  words, they keep me 
from drowning.


Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Sunday's mini-challenge - Triquain
Seven line poem with the following syllables: 3 - 6 - 9 - 12 - 9 - 6 - 3

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Homecoming


Sticky sweet as hand-rolled rice cake
Baked in clay pot lined with banana leaves

Salty soft as goat's cheese
Mouth watering purple yam stirred in milk & sugar

Tangy crisp as sliced green mango
Mixed with tomatoes, onions & shrimp paste

Sun dew fruits - watermelon, papaya,
star apple, melon, atis, chico - nourish my eyes

And most of all, riotously decadent halo-halo*
colors swimming in finely shaved ice

And I would suckle your brown breast
Milky as young coconut, newly axed by bolo**

By the man along dusty road,
His deeply wrinkled smile welcoming me home 
  




*Halo-halo ( ‘mix-mix’ ) is a popular Philippine dessert consisting mainly of finely-shaved ice and a delightful concoction of preserved sweets such as young shredded coconut, beans, boiled banana chunks, macapuno, sago, gelatin, leche flan and topped with crispy popped rice and a glob of ice cream, among other yummy tidbits. Picture credit here.

** bolo is a large, heavy, single-edged knife or machete for hacking

Posted for D'verse Poets pub - Homecoming ~ It's all about food ~ 

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Dusk



westward wind tarries 
sea-floral fragrance

rain clouds

slinging its glorious mane

a darkening 
of trees sway below gibbous moon

tide recedes
crooning last summer's song

time slips
hushed and gentle like the gazelle. *


Title and last line from Dusk, Gabriela Mistral.

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Sunday's Mini-challenge- Gabriela Mistral
and Poets United ~  Thanks for the visit ~


long shadows of sunset
stole my breath & words-

I drank as a daughter *
Her mother's milk, milk of the palmtrees *



Grace @ Florida Vacation

Thursday, August 7, 2014

August thunderstorm

pewters sky

mud-silver



Grace @ Clearwater Beach, Florida

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - In 40 words or less  ~   Thanks for the visit ~

Sea-charmed morning


Grace @ Clearwater Beach, Florida

~0~0~


sun-licked waters 
over blue-drunk sky

I tread 
eager for wiggly fish

and though each tide
repeats an old song

bounding waves
break against my feet

soft feathers 
of green-stemmed blooms 

I cannot count
nor put them in a vase



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - In 40 words or less ~  Thanks for the visit ~