an object of wonder

her hair frazzled in wisps of clouds,
she whirls through the nightly sky,
her moon of a bosom glinting, an
illumination of the passing lives.

she whirls through the nightly sky
ever dreamy, in her every dream
of the enchanted orbs of her eyes.

her moon of a bosom glinting, an
evanescent sight of the heavens
I see, in the rifts of her movement, an

illumination of the passing lives.
she is but a miser’s thrift, an object
wandering (I wonder at) through the sky.

.

Written in consideration of dVerse MTB and Get Listed for October at With Real Toads.

Image source

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humor me

humor me
by tying me up good
when we pass the sirens’ lair,
awaken me by your clairvoyance
as night ends.

a morning
begins with smile on
her illumined face as she
drinks the sunshine to become a star
going away.

laughing moon
glares at me again
to warn of the deep silence
that has broken down glass mirrors of
deception.

she has left
a note of goodbye
which invites the noise inside
where my bones lay fragmented into
naive splinters.

gloom sees me
and I see people
leading lives of dead humor,
they see me too when she uncloses
her dark eyes.

.

Written in consideration of dVerse where Mr. Tony Maude has prompted everyone to write modified cinquains, by adding one more syllable to every line.

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This Hunt

nearing night, a shadow falls
into the uncomplicated arms of
twilight, the sun still sets,

there is a dark smile of an angel
that descends into a flood
submerging all the air, into
emotions.

you extinguish the flame, by
a flick of your wrist, I sit
in the womb of a couch,
feeling for a tentative touch
to relinquish all desire.

a breath transcends when you
look at me like a fierce lion,
waiting for the right second to
pounce, and smear your paws
with my blood, and into the moon
eclipsed by a shadow of this hunt.

A shadow of transfixed and
curved delight.

.

At With Real Toads, Grace introduces us to the verse of the Mexican poet, David Huerta. Inspired from his writing and using one of his lines(translated by Mark Schafer), I wrote a few words. This is at best a first draft.
Linking it up with Poetry Pantry at PU as well.

Art by Karen F. Rose

Music Inspired Haiku: Moon in the Lake

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tinkling of the bells

the blessed night mesmerizes

a glimpse of full moon

~

drink violet waters

a thirst for tranquility

lake from the heavens

                                                                                                       ~            

tender to my being

plucking the moon from the sky

hide it in heart’s lake

.

*For Carpe Diem # 262 Moon in the Water; inspired by Karunesh’s Moon in the Water.

moon beam

The moon peered down at me through the haze, while I stool silent, lost in the reverent atmosphere. The sound of the waves was enriching and it filled my soul with a longing. And it seemed the tears would make an appearance but it wasn’t so. Their time hadn’t yet come because my longing wasn’t yet acknowledged by my soul. It was just a fleeting balloon away from the reach of my touch. But then the haze parted and the moon beam descended on me and I could see my flesh in the dark and I knew I was a breathing creature, not merely a conscious flying away in the oblivion. I recognized my longing and then those tears, I loathed and loved at the same time, spilled out but there were just a few of them. May be it was just meant to be so.

a piercing moon beam

all the past wounds torn open

realizing tears flow