Saturday, May 15, 2010
Look to this day!
For it is life, the very life of life,
In its brief course
Lie all the verities and realities of your existence
The bliss of growth
The glory of action
The splendor of beauty.
For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision,
But today well lived makes every yesterday
A dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore, to this day!
Such is the salutation of the dawn.
As a writer I should write. Share my thoughts and ideas through this medium that I continue in attempting to master.
elbow of Earth
Reaching into the sky, to catch what is
there, that which flows through the land; fallen
down, layer by layer
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
when a devouring silence
placates the substance of my preoccupation
there ensues a recollection of wonder
amidst impossible worries that are
displaced by the attraction of intrigue
or the fear of incompetence
whatsoever moves my attention
has journeyed to do so, through my conceptual desires
for me to fit it within my reasoning
move in through the night
disparage mine own countenance
flavourless in fright
inflame and fashion
with deliberate passion
what failures I must surmount
Monday, April 5, 2010
The plums tasted
sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl-
but what manners! To chew into each!
She was ungainly, low-caste, ill mannered and dirty,
but the god took the fruit she'd been sucking.
Why? She knew how to love.
She might not distinquish
splendor from filth
but she'd tasted the nectar of passion.
Might not know any Veda,
but a chariot swept her away-
now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound
to her god.
The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira,
will save anyone who can practice rapture like that-
I myself in a previous birth
was a cowherding girl
Monday, March 29, 2010
amidst the dawns of persuasion
each thing carying carryings
caring to clarify countless encounterings
measurably adhering to
sporadic flitterings and
feigning what frets
nudge this disposition
catching it after the fact of
embellished past tracks
out of the distract of despair
figuring faults that collapse
in the face of each unpeeled feeling
wavering within a flaunted place
of misplaced healing and forgotten being
my head was twisted
to a kiss
of swelling identity out of a fracturing
pressure bones, ready to crack
displacing the refrain, I can only react