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 Apr 2017
Skaidrum
─illustrations on the ceiling

i love the way
the sunlight ripples along his skin
with no complaints

"messiah"* the shadow talks
"of course he is"* i reply
and i resume to orchestrating my love

─little phobias

i wander aimlessly along his windows,
his eyes;
they are gates to afterlives unloved;
they are oceanic shrapnel
sky imprisoned infinities
a lapis point of view-
that i treasure

his heart is drenched
in my soul-
in a sweeter sickness-
in the liquid measure of my steps-
he mentions i'm contagious

i tell him he is my favorite way
to bleed

"september prodigy" the shadow babbles
"why?" i rasp
"sun at long last
kisses away
all the ghosts
harvesting from
the heart of the moon"

and i broke out into stars

─my serendipity

i love the raw
music of our conversations,
and how his voice
undresses me
and my monsters
so delicately
in fabrics of the dark

i love how his laugh
makes all the other planets
look dull;
how his smile
is the first step
to curing the blind

so the blind may know
what i know

"the symphony of seams"

i love how he is the shocking
philosophy
of turning suicide notes
into paper cranes

of picking fights with death
so i may remain

i love the phoenix tucked in his soul
how it defines-
the altitudes-
the limits-
our existence he describes to me

"reincarnation?" the shadow asks
"every morning he wonders" i answer
and the fever invests it's time in me

"what is he to you?" the shadow murmurs

"besides broken flowers,
and ink blots shaped like rain
he is my favorite stairway to heaven.
"
neurosis in my palms
© Copywrite Skaidrum
 Apr 2017
beth fwoah dream
'where night is....
monotones of silver stars'

emotions
blues, greys,
summer tied
to our hair,
love on our
lips,
in a moment
we live and die,
kisses of golden
skies,
our dreamy heads
lost in the clouds
uprooted like a
strange plant, we
run to prove we're
still alive,
dance to say we're
beautiful and strong,
like a polished stone
we find ourselves in
weird pockets,
where the air sighs
where our ribs are no
longer a cage for
our breath
where the stars
hang like fisherman's
nets wrapped to
a black ink sky,
strange sea of stars
love so gorgeous
it sings like the
wild storm-grey sea,
where night is....
Wisteria perfumes the morning vale as piedmont sunshine accentuates oak grove dales                                                            ­                                         The knell of dawn church bells travel while azalea , hibiscus an begonia color a town square guarded by black granite warriors*...
Copyright April 26 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Apr 2017
Gidgette
When I was six
Daddy held my tiny hand
He promised mine would stay silk
His hands were hard
From love
He walked with me
in the Tennessee mountains
While the Lady Slippers bloomed
Rare orchids
in pink and yellow
They grow wild here
He bent,
looking me in my pale eyes
And he said
"God of the mountains and wild things,
breathe,
make them dance,
for my little lady."
And they did
Lady Slippers are a very rare type of orchid. The roots are medicinal. And they are nearly impossible to cultivate. The Cherokee people, used them frequently and the white man nearly irradicated them. Happy Sunday and my love to you all;)
 Apr 2017
K Balachandran
I was quite oblivious, then
of the ways of this wicked world,
being a merry child of nature;
innocence embraced me tightly
as if I am it's one and only beloved.
It was my dad, man of infinite
wisdom yet carefree, who walked
in front,he once  turned around
as if he remembered this,and said
"Don't ever go astray,keep your
eyes focused on the light distant
even if I am not there to lead
if ever you find any difficulty,
don't you get confused, that  flame
remains unflinching,within
each moment,you feel the need "
I didn't ever go astray,keeping up
with his footsteps.I let out a secret,.
I remember,a sweet kiss for
sweet pain in my lips.

Well, he didn't have much time left
he knew his seeds transferred in this
pod would set sail to the very end
of the world,till it goes on gently
narrating it's tale.Bless my beloved dad
it's mostly him and mum I am,
filled with: wonder for the world,
compassion for even a purloiner,
scrounger,larcenist, owl or spider.
At one turn he casually said good bye
and vanished,collected his ashes white,
mixed it with my bitter tears,I immersed
it in the confluence of three seas,at Cape
with a heart gone empty.He has become
immortal, my meditative moments
would tell me,with such certainty,
Still his words ring loud and clear
in my inner ears.

On my  way, in carnivals,I encountered,
thieves garden manicured, where
robbers and plunderers celebrated
victory nights with their ticklish girls.
I spent two days in guilty pleasures
and moved forwards my destination.
near and dear I had so much ,was proud
about them; imbibed the wisdom that held
the light ,closer to my spirit from all.

                               I heard the wild cheering,
when I did things right as expected,
as I crossed the temperate deciduous forest,
the lion tailed macaque,stared at me and said
"There a little further you 'd see prowling tigers,
alone you are, be on your guard".Astonished
as I looked around, I saw none but me,alone!

Climbing the steep rock in the middle of
the herbal mountain,I find the sanctuary
of the ancient sage,which the Chinese traveler
Xuanzang1 sought fighting odds,walking all along.
here is the light,I 'd realize my truth in this abode.
Xuanzang--CE(602-664)was a Chinese Buddhist monk,scholar, traveler,translator,who traveled   to India
and spent time doing study and meditation at mount "Agastya koodam" (Pothikai)in Kerala, South India,believed to be  the  abode of Avalokiteswara.(compassionate and merciful Bodhisattva)
 Apr 2017
Cné
sometimes,
i like to dance
with the devil
burning eyes upon me
in hypnotic dazzle
my toes easily
sweep away inhibitions
quieting my angelic
voice's suspicions
as whispered words
brush thine ear
my entranced ego
has no fear
endangering
as it may be
our bodies entanglement
appears free
with soaring thoughts
of ecstasy
we ebb and flow
in ****** mystery
seduced in music
playing rhythmically
ecstatically,
i dance willingly
 Apr 2017
beth fwoah dream
tonight, breeze
of rose,

tide, sweet
river brightened,
falling into the dark,

our love, the
breeze's ghost,
running from
the sun that
slipped away,

leaves in
flight on the
trees, tireless
and wordless,
murmuring
of summer
dreams and
crazy love,

high tide,
the sea's breath
lowering
the sky,
silver cloud
and moon-onyx,

our love,
tonight,
where the night is....

where the night is
a sweetened breeze,

where the night is
the dark, daring
us to go on,

to wait forever....
for the silvery
whispers of the
night to
sigh
for love.
Words are now
as if
I never wrote

gather as an aching
lump in my throat.

They don't seek paper
only a river
to pour and mingle
in refrains of a dumb sadness
flow away
sunburned and tidewashed
to where the river is widest
deepest with sighs
of life not enough
in once only
and when just begun
ending broken on the shore.
 Apr 2017
Cristina
today we count down
years since your first breath
so let's take a moment to recall it all.
              
                         ...

I've been whispering you
Happy Birthday
since ten years ago.

One decade seeing you grow
becoming the man you always
been wishing for.

Happy birthday my dear husband
and happy many years
together dancing.

I will continue to wake you up
in the middle of the night
to whisper softly
'Happy birthday Adrian!'
32 years suits you up beautifully
 Apr 2017
K Balachandran
bee pecks on bloom's lips
acting coy, she turns away,
slyly eyes him once.
 Apr 2017
grumpy thumb
People remember parks when there's sunshine,
Set off for the beach when the weather is fine.
I prefer the Autumn and Winter when they're just mine.
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