Lights of blue velvet, Serenade rhythm of sight, As turquoise kisses The neon beats Carrying streamers Of twirling wings Flying along cotton hooves Dwindling to dissolving nights Welcoming cherry blossom skies Lifting dawn Like waving sheets of satin, While the invisible, Flows Along the orbit of the inevitable.
Their eyes met, And the moment melded, Like rain to bodies of ocean Like light Meshing From interpretation of reflection, A conjuction Of two souls in Parralell roles A spiritual function They hold together Like a stone fortification No winds No hammers Could shatter their affection Their love built of conviction An attraction Only death could bring desertion Yet. Even then, Such energy moves, With transformation.
Shall he be cut off, A wanderer of sight Fulfilling but emptiness A scattered figure A corpse with meager instinct, A shell of anatomy Desolate like deserts beneath sun.
Feet, lacerated by grains, Wounds to fester in absence of whole, A man led in torture but yet sees truth But removed be its company A hand among the mirage A gallery of bodies, Dare be such a hand, A whip awaits,
But shall he rise Or find himself in the perpetual, A crime, playing as if it be futile. How brutal be the palm to grasp, Though a wanderer of sight like many, May he still be in resilience Finding revelation Though he be treated, as a David of present.
So falls the seed The seasoned dough Lips of closed A tongue for taste, A sip to refresh Laughter from chest A moment abreast Flowing to breeze Oh! How these hours feel free.
Expanse beyond the eye to see Though moment shall fall to shade, Even evening holds its place, Now forms the rise of molecule blaze, A dancing array, A comfort of crowd to stay Though stars give way For tomorrow’s valet, A goodnight But never an escape Or an end weigh But flavors, aromas Memories built, By friendship, and gourmet.
Did you hear, Did you wake from slumber, Feeling the pulse of it all, The song that swirls beneath the feet of life, Lifting like wings of a pearl dove, Curling over the breath of wind Rising above the breasts of earth.
Did you wake, Did you feel, The galaxy of atoms form, Attracting with gravity Like static to follicles of calcium, Ascending to the allure of heavens, Of sight before thee.
Did you move, Did you stumble, Before the humility of vision The drawings of the soul. Like births of Botticelli upon canvass, Spilling, in motions by vigor Dancing, to colors with modesty,
Triumph, but numb No dust can cover the problem No shade can drown the chasm, The split in days of yore. A mirror is but loathsome, A visual phantom His eyes are of void of expression Yet laughter calls from the bottom The darkened plasm, A piece of light carries the gruesome, A burden, a symptom, An old system.
He hears the wisdom But bears the venom A volume of tandem A man of spiritual paludism, Unsure the antidote, So builds a mental slum, A place of humdrum A tinnitus of thought, of being.
A city in complexion of own terrorism, Much glory Much honor, in friendship to brother. But triumph fell to cynicism A blackened robe cast net upon many, Never, to blossom, So lays shreds of torn peddles, So leaves him upon a pendulum, A man once of rhythm, Now walks, in paths of spasm.