"Heaven"—Is What I Cannot Reach!
239
"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree—
Provided it do hopeless—hang—
That—"Heaven" is—to Me!
The Color, on the Cruising Cloud—
The interdicted Land—
Behind the Hill—the House behind—
Remembrance
Your hands easy
weight, teasing the bees
hived in my hair, your smile at the
slope of my cheek. On the
occasion, you press
above me, glowing, spouting
readiness, mystery rapes
my reason
When you have withdrawn
' Emeralds And Black Diamonds...
Lie down lass, with me, in sage green meadows
Your blouse flouncing open, in the teasing breeze
The meadows, feel so cotton, this time of year
Come lay beside me, and sense my desires.
Open field, honeysuckle....arouses my yen
For passion 'neath th' sparkle by th' mid-noon sun
No clouds abide our scape of choice to pleasure
So, again I ask you lass, come lay beside me.
Embrace
You know the parlor trick.
wrap your arms around your own body
and from the back it looks like
someone is embracing you
her hands grasping your shirt
her fingernails teasing your neck
from the front it is another story
you never looked so alone
your crossed elbows and screwy grin
you could be waiting for a tailor
*** Australianisation ***
Sounds of gravel under heavy tires
Teasing the silence of little house in the
Bushes and surrounding of wild flowers
Open my exotic fear
Someone behind those bushes has captured
My reviving heart
Warialda here I come
Tell me if the Kangaroos and Koalas
Are in love with you too
Summer in December
It Is Not Love It Is Madness
(You say) It is not love, it is madness
My madness may be the cause of your fame
Sever not my relationship with you
If nothing then be my enemy
What is the meaning of notoriety in meeting me
If not in public court meet me alone
I am not my own enemy
So what if the stranger is in love with you
Whatever you are, it is due to your own being
If this not known then it is ignorance
The Graveyard By The Sea
This quiet roof, where dove-sails saunter by,
Between the pines, the tombs, throbs visibly.
Impartial noon patterns the sea in flame --
That sea forever starting and re-starting.
When thought has had its hour, oh how rewarding
Are the long vistas of celestial calm!
What grace of light, what pure toil goes to form
The manifold diamond of the elusive foam!
What peace I feel begotten at that source!
When sunlight rests upon a profound sea,
A Deaf Musician
As though a deaf musician, I am part
Of some great orchestra I cannot hear.
The only notes that fall upon my ear
Are those which rise unbidden from the heart
And offer teasing glimpses of the art
Of harmony. Yet have I heard, in clear,
Still moments of perception, what appear
As distant drum-beats; pulses that impart
A rhythm to the cosmic melody.
Then, with a quick'ning joy, I see that I
A Hug
Biology invigorated by Chemistry and empowered by Geography
infuses us with a plethora of poignant sensations, embraced by
thevelvet of tenderness and clasped in the arms of monogamy.
My heart is made of metal and yours, my virtuous bride, of magnet.
Evocative and provocative energy enmeshes our nostalgia.
Conjugal ripples from the surface of our skin rush through our veins
into our deepest depths until reciprocal osmosis becomes orgasmic.
The wind is tired of its futile attempts to get between us.
Rainbow In Motion Haiku
Red, orange, yellow
green, blue, indigo- violet
mystic vision arcs
Red, orange yellow
green blue indigo follow
A Lover's Quarrel Among The Fairies
A moonlight moor. Fairies leading a child.
Male Fairies: Do not fear us, earthly maid!
We will lead you hand in hand
By the willows in the glade,
By the gorse on the high land,
By the pasture where the lambs
Shall awake with lonely bleat,
Shivering closer to their dams
**** My Heaven
Young and tender – like a green coconut with sweet juices
Soft skin – as soft as an infant
Red blushes face – as red as the ‘Red Sun’
Sweet voice – like a hungry Dolphin echo
Firm and hard breasts – as ripe as water melons
Body contour – like an acoustic guitar
Crispy butt – as crispy as honeyed meat loaf
Mouth watering in between – as delicious as tropical seafood
Flawless silken hair – like a Stallion tail
Teasing nose – like the Swiss Alps skiing steep
Broken Song
Kasinath the new young singer fills the hall with sound:
The seven notes dance in his throat like seven tame birds.
His voice is a sharp sword slicing and thrusting everywhere,
It darts like lightening - no knowing where it will go when.
He sets deadly traps for himself, then cuts them away:
The courtiers listen in amazement, give frequent gasps of praise.
Only the old king Pratap Ray sits like wood, unmoved.
Haraj Lal is the only singer he likes, all others leave him cold.
From childhood he has spent so long listening to him sing -
The End Of March
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury
It was cold and windy, scarcely the day
to take a walk on that long beach
Everything was withdrawn as far as possible,
indrawn: the tide far out, the ocean shrunken,
seabirds in ones or twos.
The rackety, icy, offshore wind
numbed our faces on one side;
A Great Poetess
Admired and enjoyed,
As a guide I deployed,
Messages I found,
In her poems so profound,
Her messages of ethics,
Her sense of civics,
A true loving heart,
In the battle with thwart!
Always wins the wars,
Catch
Two boys uncoached are tossing a poem together,
Overhand, underhand, backhand, sleight of hand, everyhand,
Teasing with attitudes, latitudes, interludes, altitudes,
High, make him fly off the ground for it, low, make him stoop,
Make him scoop it up, make him as-almost-as possible miss it,
Fast, let him sting from it, now, now fool him slowly,
Anything, everything tricky, risky, nonchalant,
Anything under the sun to outwit the prosy,
Over the tree and the long sweet cadence down,
Over his head, make him scramble to pick up the meaning,
' Black Autumn { For My Silent Mentor Edgar Allan Poe}...
Comes the cold, black, Death of Autumn,
harbouring its' pique on naked limb;
stirring damp, feral winds
to the hawking, stalking,
insidious squawking...
of ominous, petulant birds,
large, pestilent birds,
inexorabally, ever circling
'neath the late day shadows
from a cold november sun.
Hugging The Jukebox
On an island the soft hue of memory,
moss green, kerosene yellow, drifting, mingling
in the Caribbean Sea,
a six-year-old named Alfred
learns all the words to all the songs
on his grandparents’ jukebox, and sings them.
To learn the words is not so hard.
Many barmaids and teenagers have done as well.
But to sing as Alfred sings—
how can a giant whale live in the small pool of his chest?
Hen Laid Eggs
Hen laid an eggs, between legs two,
No small, no big but not in zoo,
Ran after those who made slight dig,
Dog, cat and crow planned very big,
Hen laid eggs……
Hen becomes heroin when find egg,
With big noise run after with one leg,
Even scare pig and allow near no body,
How to protect eggs that is only worry?
On Fame
I.
Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
And dotes the more upon a heart at ease;
She is a Gipsey,--will not speak to those
Who have not learnt to be content without her;
A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper'd close,
Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her;