HONESTY!

 Blue sweater

making daisy chains

carving each word

for the surprise of a sentence-

A book in bed  

 belief in words

significance of presence

solitude-

I want to knock

I want to kill a girl

I have to bury her

I’m writing her poem -

black and white.

I'm alive-

In absence:(in her) alone in
 sand

her skin:like a waterfall

 I see myself!

I recognize her

Honesty:follows her eyes

crying from the walls-

the only word finally

I believe in words !



.

 

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

Khalil Gibran

Nonetheless Nothingness...

Vastness of the sky

ring my chimes
a tree's golden tresses

flows a river of stories

death nonetheless

the withering away to nothingness...

DE-seeded Disease!

sapwood bleeds my pain

is it-

 to become a rain of colours ?

in a new gravetogether again
re-buried mother...
denuded, openThis stark, sere land—

Delirious Sweat...

my mother’s eyes might watch or
my father’s fingers might touch
scratch their dogs’ bellies,
the whole place is a thirst-

desert’s hot sky
salt crystals with nothing more to bite
the who/what/where/when/why
the riots of moths

never to be suckled
des(perate) figures hurling each other up;
to see but not be seen
sinks in a soil of doubt.

(the sky seem busy)
sands are tugging
that ants had amassed
desert, more than anywhere!

My Cumulus Depth...

coconut beaches
creeping against the lips

phosphorescent and pulsing
relationship of stone

systematic and enduring
all the day they roared with bees...

dry and white by midsummer
feelings were ash-gray

spangled with sunset at the top
wrinkled aspen leaves

of someone kissed in sleep;
in the darkness cold muzzles

between the burnt peaks
the half-moon rides

smoky and indistinct
a small dense cumulus cloud

peaks deep in itself; without a quiver
just that sea and me-

..............................

indefinable  divided the outline of your body
 my hook snagged in a struggle of desire

 body moves on
from your navel to where the darkness begins

imperfect and constant inside me
to throw in your river

my hair hangs surly and limp;
. i throw an arm over you

Our naked shivering bodies
in the dark  endless-

...................

there’s a leaf falling -
a pack of dogs loose in my dream
the fuzz of dried grass
catches fire
as it lays eggs inside me..

P.S-
please suggest me a title-

do you know it is!

The street-lamp’s vigil
 it’s love- i squeeze your waist

 like a language
i undress and enter
painted there

clumps and fluffs

like bursting pillows
sweat and desire..

 if it’s love-!
the un-loved year
with many tributaries
between my thighs
i wear the butterflies
we collected together
amid the infinite
their curtains beating

it’s love-
the arc tightens and closes
a deep and torrential river
the map hangs before me
his body—your body
to overcome; to conquer..

Painting by AmandaNutzman

.