Day keeps his tryst with winsome light
under the golden dome of the opulent morn,
still shamelessly eyes the leaving jealous night,
with the glad eye, reserved for a concubine,
to whom at sun down he stealthily returns.
This illicit affair both consorts are aware,
hasn't it sustained both, with him as the buffer!

The girl has a pearl, that she keeps closely guarded,
he knocks her door and she is aware of his ardor
he stands at her door, which she keeps half closed.
They are different, her words ring true to him, he loves her,
and thinks the pearl's worth is overblown, is this her most dazzling thing?
From where she comes, they count the pearl as the thing, she is aware
one huge burden for a girl, to keep it shielded until the time to hand over.
Caution is her shield, the pearl is kept burrowed, yet  it feels too heavy now,
she has two choices; find if the pearl dazzles him or not, 
she has to soon  decide.

The wind speed of thought, is handy vehicle; on it mind flies.
To familiar places, where no map is needed, I journey by foot.
A car, a coach or a train, some times air planes to long hauls.
But nothing takes one far like poetry, to interior landscapes.

the intent completing my purpose.
A bud on a stem capitulated to a
bee on a wing , challenges flew from me.
Experienced in fertilizing analogy, I  intended, but
obviously wilted under the pressure and blamed it
on the sun or lack of rain or pigs eating my roots away.
When I neutered myself, verbally,
darkness understood and drew me in:
oils were painted imaged in unrealistic views expressionist caricatures.
Experimental images all failed to resurrect
the benefits I had splurged.
I only meant to live.

Yet another day of pain was put behind,
She lets out a sigh of relief as if the beast
That stalks her is duped for now, once more.

The last Metro train that night, slows down,stops.
To return to her regular prison she gets in hurriedly.
Emptiness bares it's fangs, that looked sweet in fact,
In comparison with the experiences of the day gone.

A suspicious bundle on the floor stirred at her touch,
A frail women almost frozen,living dead, eyes sunken
in sockets." How did you end up here?" she quarries.
"I fainted, didn't eat anything, for the past few days"

"Mother, you need to drink something hot quick.
Come with me I'll take care" her eyes get moist.
Then she smiles thinking how fortunate she is.
"My share of sweet misery is here to teach me
practice humility, even in an empty compartment"

One by one I find out and join the faint dots,
concealed superbly in the interiors of the poetic landscape,
a complex picture of life emerges from it, then
I don't see it there while creating it in a kind of trance
mysterious, I wonder how this could happen.
Every word carries out a mission, delve deep, be aware,
rhythm moves in waves, along the dense water plane,
the poem brims with dreams,we have woven for ages
the world it pictures is a complex microcosm
every image it evokes creates a ripple effect,
sit down, listen in your own voice , mull over
each dot, when joined makes a sense different
this is a healing potion, it's taste exhilarating
in this secret maze, I'll hide, come seek me out.

Before my eyes is the war dance, the armies of light enact,
is this, one inane madness or pursuance of a vision divine?
what makes me lose my heart, to you for all the time?
White lotus of my thoughts, the blooming my every cell echoes,
we are no different, I am reminded, our union is beyond time.

Through this limitless moor, tireless miles,alone I walk,
feel your presence everywhere when the wind booms
the blazing desert sun is unforgiving, it implied this:
"I'll make him regret for his insane love, the intrepid adventurer"
even if he scorches me to death, would I ever let go of my love?"

Rain lashed, strong guests of gale pelted hailstones,
uprooted trees asked me to stop,paths became waterways,
nothing, except your face, entrenched deep in my consciousness,
was in my recall; our love,I resolved, wouldn't die, even if I fall.

White lotus of legends, in you  enshrined, is my essence,
don't pretend, you are unkind and  I am not in your eye shot,
for you the rules of love I'll throw to the winds, cross the river of fire,
pull out all the stops to reach you, may it be in this life or in any other .

As the wind speed of mind increases, he loses weight
sees the clouds ethereal nearer and crowd in which
he  too jostled like an imbecile, becoming far off dots
selfishness, greed, jealousy,pride, lust , avarice and violence
self-pity masquerading as love, all this still tie them down
some among them fornicate words, turn them in to  ******,
this happens for ages, but none has the power to stop the rot,
look at those mindless wonders that dance in ****, we watch
in horror but pretend as if we are delighted, to keep the peers gleeful.

Don't you want a journey of your own  through inner landscape
no more be a kite,begging for the mercy of those who pull the string
who fake *******, think something and pretend contrary to it, dupe.

"I am sky bound, levitate, a cloud heavy with sadness,still buoyant,
I would rain,when feel drained, assume the white cloak of purity.
I am the earth and fire,wind and water, limitlessness of the space"

Someday,
when the weeds are
growing all around me,
I will bury you in dirt
and then choose the words
that will act
as a cold-reading pacifier
for the crowds
who thought they knew you.

Maybe
you thought I would
be the first to go;
a near-certain bet
for the first to our death,
only for me to find youth
in my old age,
hitting form at the after-party,
just as everyone else
is looking for sleep.

Sweetheart,
I learned to stretch out
the hours of retirement
in a posture that can be sustained;
beyond mood shifts
and weather patterns,
to a place in which
I welcome the rain.
The allotment is flourishing,
my unsheathed Vishuddha.

Still,
**** my hippie fantasies
if I cannot hear your voice.

I am not yet defiled; O hear me.
Let not the crazed hornets or serpents or ophidian or the
   buzzard bee come near me.

I am not yet defiled; console me.
I fear that the snake charmer may with rhythmic body clocks clock me,
   with predatory hissing paralyze me, with authoritative power anger me,
      on wicker constraints constrain me, in bamboo-patches pierce me.

I am not yet defiled; provide me
With beauty to free me, dressage to cover me, silence to come
   to me, souls to save me, charmers and angels
     in my wandering existence seeking fights to waver the war within me.

I am not yet defiled; forgive me
For the provocative glances in me, my presence when womanity holds me,
   my mythological beauty by deities beyond me,
      my head held high when they slay by means of my
         crossbow, my addiction when they poison me.

I am not yet defiled; rehearse me
In the dreams and the prayers I must take when
   art interrupts me, material disturbs me, splintered souls
     gaze at me, smiles fade at me, the knifes edge
       stains me and everlasting scars pain
         me to shame and the shames taints
           my skin and my heart abandons me.

I am not yet defiled; O hear me,
Let not Perseus who is warrior or who thinks he is King
     or a rival to me.

I am not yet defiled; O fill me
With gasoline against those who would inhabit my
  bones, would sink me into empty caverns,
    would make me a prisoner locked, a monster with
      blood dripping, a monster, and a passer of dis-ease
        who would execute my self, would
          flush me like ***** oozing and
            ***** and ooze and *****
              like alcohol seeping in the
                pores would drown me.

Let Poseidan not make me defiled and let him not **** me.
Otherwise **** me.

© Sia Jane

the word pursue
is such a peculiar word
to use to describe the role of
a male in a relationship

It suggests the woman
is running away
and doesn't wish
to be caught

I understand the concept of
playing hard to get
but at some point the chase usually ends
and both people surrender

*but you've never stopped running