Tag Archives: illusion

city of eden (12 Aug 2011)

14 Oct

I am the city of eden
I built it all
to be a most fantastical

space, I believed it
was bigger than me
more robust, more substantial

than my existence, it was
an idea that carried
my inner sanctum

I gave it all the gravity
it needed to exist

I gave it everything
and when the tree dropped
it’s apple; my city of eden

the whole universe disappeared

stones (5 Feb 2011)

23 Feb

The stones moved into my eyes
I stared and stared
until I stared back at myself
a mixture of hazel and confusion
iris darkly rimmed
like a winter moon
pupil darkly large
learning

I stared and stared
into a night’s harbour
folded with hills
and one lamp sprang forth
outing all the shadows, one lamp
darkness could not claim
an iris shining

what gleamed around my face
what golden light circled me
what radiance filled me
my form super-imposed
light sculpting light
my mirage taking form
into the tricks of night

divine infinite light I breathe (13 April 2010)

29 Jun

gone are the exploratory kisses
to dissipate charge
and tension

gone are the soft heartbeats
like gentle whispers on my breasts
gone is the running away

tongue and syllables for another day
gone is the desirous wanting
more of everything

gone is the belief that if only
we meet inseparably
I can be me with you

gone is the taste
of taking you
away or with me

gone is the necessary climax
to proclaim an ending
and gone is the person I was

before you breathed on me

I didn’t win (4 Mar 2010)

29 Jun

and I question
what’s the point of Hope?
I mean, it denies a

perfect moment
for something other than
it is

I thought the perfect
moment looked like
me, an up-shot, a never

heard of before poet
recounting how the
poem was “given”

in meditation a year ago
to beget this perfect moment
– Winning

well, it did beget a perfect
moment – instead – it showed me
my fears in exposing and expressing

it showed me that as long
as I hope for something
other than it is

then I am denying reality
deluding my truth
pampering my illusion

and yet, when I drop Hope
the quality left is not
hopeless

there is another word
needed
a quality of word

that is without Hope
and without hopeless
without all expectations

yet open to all options

maybe this word
is called Reality
or Perfection

Throat chakra (13 Feb 2010)

17 Feb

I sing the Gayartri Mantra
The entire plane ride into India
I may be singing for enlightenment

But really I’m subduing the little patterings of fear

India. Holy Mother, I’m entering into
The domains of destruction
Dancing with Shiva

With a man who kisses his feet
(The intoxicated devotee that he is)
And he rides the fastest bike in town

I confess; I love an adventure

He and I are an illusion
In love, out of love, in love
I fall completely free

To say I love you
Has a quality that sounds
Redundant. Love

Is all there is before the object (him)
And subject (me) ever existed
Take us out of the equation; I and You do not sustain

Truth. And I confess, the crakes
Are showing; it’s difficult to take
Myself as a known quantity

I am patterned, I can see that
(It plays out in my heat)
And I am strikingly independent

A Palm Reader who I have a crush on
Tells me I’m special; destiny is waiting
I see truth and contradictions in his reading

I see truth and contradictions in my beliefs
(mainly contradictions)
And when I stop for just a moment

Stop talking about Me, that is
I learn that rather than being left with
Nothing to say

It leaves me with Everything to express

only as a name (03 Oct 2008)

17 Sep

who is this voice
you’re singing a story I wrote
you’re singing notes more familiar

than milk, than my memories
of you, Yes You

I don’t know how you come
only as a name
nothing more

a stranger to my life
I know nothing that brings you
alive, you come as a

broken neon sign
dully outlined and disappearing
at darkness

dreams are more vivid
and they fade quickly

what am I? (9 Jan 2008)

4 Sep

what am I
but the centre of my universe
a radiant illusion

of night time needing light
of secrets needing to be spilled
on shadows seeking home

of howling into my story
and walking into ruins
ignoring sleep

what am I
but someone awake in the dark
recognising how delirious I am

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