In summers past, hot and hazy,
we wandered northern shorelines,
sand whipping salt brine and
vinegar enveloped, marveling that
even the Amish possess swimwear.

I lingered at the taffy shop,
toe-raised peering through smudged
glass and candy bins, spying
both worker and robo-worker
pulling long tough ropes of
salty confection and memory.

Our time on the path is pulled taffy,
event-pummeled, tugged asunder,
reunited bittersweet.

baked boardwalk beneath feet,
cobbled personality planks
stretching taffy of time

In summers past I was there.
In summers present i am there.
In summers beyond we are back
there once again
folded and kneaded
smiling, reunited.

This is the back-end of forever,
yet do not fear;
the dying of the light
is the dawning of the dusk:
a wheel that we spin,
a point that we traverse,
a keeping of a promise,
a memory of a scent,
a vision of disorder,
and the chaos in the calm.
Cower.
Rejoice.
Repeat.
Amen.

My beloved night was dense,dark, wavy, soft velvet,
fully naked, moving in rhythm with me,  frenzied, sweet,
we moved heaven and earth to reach the acme of delight,
then flew in to a sudden  culmination,words fail to express,
the day dawned, blazing molten gold,ages were  impatient steeds,
together we rode, gained wings, became transcendentals, sublime
reached that tranquil, trident  blue peak where silence for ever reigns,
we had a deep yearning to sit and peer deep in to each other's eyes,
and see what remains after the last wave returns to the ocean's heart.

Above the emerald mountain,ran a river that fell in to an abyss,
the white foam of it's smile told us, about all we sought thus far.

"Ÿou have reached here in your frenzied search for the elusive
chasing the essence of a conundrum unexplained , cyclic, cryptic"
looking at  us sang a little bird, from a low hanging branch
of the tree of diamonds, that shaded us with it's clear light.
We felt the thousand petaled lotus  bloom within us that moment.

"Day and night are the horses that draw the chariot you ride,
an oasis you'll reach, then  hear stories that would ease your pain
you are in a story that reflects on the periphery of a bubble,
that exists in innumerable worlds simultaneously and hence
none is real, your truth you create,every minute and live"

We are somnambulists, that sit and paint colors in our fanciful dreams,
when we smile the colors stick to our souls till the apparition dissolves.

I saw me walking alone, along the path
feeling upset, I followed me noiselessly
curious, to find out,  what would happen, next,
with my heart relentlessly  pounding my chest.

I rang the bell of the house I lived as some other,
the door wasn't closed, so I could see
I have already gone, leaving the place,orphaned,
to that  destination, mysterious.where another tale begins.

My home once, is presently empty, signifying this :
"I am this, also  that and the other, the  next too,
I am multitudes, in everything I am present as a wee bit"
When I was alone, I wasn't, in fact; while moving away
I didn't go anywhere, all the while,ecstatically, "I am that"

I'm struggling to comprehend this desire to be desired
The forces of nature and evolution in which we're mired

No matter how far we travel into space,
Or how many organs we manage to replace
We cannot transcend the basic instinct
To preserve the species from going extinct

The world keeps spinning at a whirlwind pace,
No time for contemplation, it's the human race
If you don't keep up you'll vanish without a trace
A terrible fate that we can't seem to face
Is to have ourselves and our lives erased

Is this all there is then?
For this great species of women and men
We've struggled, survived and conquered
But our genes are still our masters
We splice study and duplicate
And try to decipher the codes
But must make time to find a mate,
Before we're too old

We've been to the moon and travelled back
We've fought world wars and pandemic attacks
We've studied the brain and consciousness
We've challenged society's prejudices

But no matter what we achieve, build or transcend
We're haunted by the spectre of being barren

The ant, elephant and amoeba
Redwood, fungus and bacteria
The chimp, owl and lowly cockroach
May not have weighty subjects to broach
But for all our millennia of evolution
The name of the game's still reproduction
I wonder if we'll ever be
Even as evolved as sea anemones!

Dissipate into oblivion
To become the nether
To lapse in consciousness

To enter the void
Flow to omniscience
Live without measure
To float through the meshwork

To drift through space-time
& Become the needle
To weave my percipience
& Teeter on the precipice

To transcend ascension
Ameliorate the ethereal
To glitch beyond boundaries
Defragment my surroundings

To eclipse the sun
In perpetual rapturing
Suspend reality
Be one with the everlasting

May I have your hand?

Okay....

I would like to tell you
how you were made
And what these folds mean
Inside your hands
I know it sounds silly
but please listen to me

Haha okay so...

That crease right beneath your fingers
Means invincibility
The ability to ensure serenity
when encountered by enemies
the will to build
the power in your veins
strive during the worst
to prolong a better days
A creative freak
A pursuing perfectionist
Etiquette of measurements
Treasures endeavour unhesitant
And you care for it
Your strength will prevail
Take your time
And you will see
How your mind is unparrelled
Do you see it?
Can you see it smiling at you?

And that crease at the bottom
That cups your thumb
Represents your beauty
And your the rarest that they come
But you haven't realized it yet
And its frowning at you
Your potential to succeed
And the elegance you brew
Your smile is of wonders
Your eyes are a universal sunset
Gorgeously burning
But you haven't realized it yet
Do you see it?
Do you know how beautiful you are now?

And now....
Its your middle crease
That bounds your strength and elegance
With such unravelled symmetry
Now I want you to look at it
......
Stare into its shape
......
Now I will hold mines up
And if they all match
It means we are soulmates

Wow,
They look so much alike
So give me your hand
Let our fingers interlock
And our uniqueness will stand
.......
For the rest of our time
Look into your palm
One will frown and one will smile
And the middle will keep you calm
The middle is me
The reflection of your soul
And it will be there
Till our spirits are up with the nightsky glow
I want you to look at me
And repeat what I said
Because no matter where I am at
I will be in the folds in your hands

Oh ferocious angels,
lionesque children of Eden
on narrow streets and polluted alleyways
whispering cruel things to each other,
you're radiant in your belligerence
and as my enemies you are virtuous.
Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room
a faint glow exhales
from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating
firefly wings of blossoms
alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray
diamond shine and shimmer.
Dusty tin roofs billow
firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted
mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding.
Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which
jot up and up arduous ruby landings,
hardwood floor cracked
and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways
of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur
the serpentine walls with memories.
Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with
avarice rebellious to concord living
harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes
empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva.
Few kinds of darkness transcendental
subduing other darkness to a weak shadow.
There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads
this intricate unspoken connection to those who
rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of
cars in July heat.
Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments
where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment
modern meditations practiced
finding a balance in such an anxious
volatile world like this.
Oh ferocious angels, impetuous
forlorn seraphs,
sing! sing and soar!
Boundless is our ardor
and our passion.
Unenclosed is the lion
in it's bloom.

When you starting asking why,
Things get a little shaky.
This question will just try,
Boggle your mind that was all ready.

But you keep on doing what you do,
Even though you can't understand.
To your beliefs you'll remain true,
Everyone can always reach for your hand.

This is the kind of love that I have.
A kind that completes everyones halves.
A kind of love that transcends.
A kind of live that you can't comprehend.