The Agile Queen

The crick crack echoed the breaking of dawn,
Her body reeled from drunken sweet slumber,
She emerged from the hollows of dead branches,
Guided by instincts, she searched for the soft luminous horizon

The sky was dotted by many scattered smoky clouds,
The crisp falling of air carried beauty that felt invincible,
It made her feel immobile and at the same time suspended her,
It was a distilled sweetness that mornings like these carried

The soft sounds of the whistles and bustles of the wind circled her,
They pushed her forward towards the flower petals despite herself,
The delicate soft petals were slowly opening for her awkward self,
She contained her firing desire to crawl and sit inside such openings

She was focused on fulfilling that, which justified her existence,
All her life she was guided and worked from her untamed instincts,
A huge burden of guilt descended on her whenever she thought of fleeing,
Her own existence and relevance was realized by what she did everyday

She was wild, free and was filled by unpredictable love for her duty,
That love was like the sun, it could not be contained in any way,
Though her world was crafty, dangerous and full of unseen horror,
That love was a glorious blanket that made her feel unreachable,
That understanding rose and blossomed the agile body of this tiny queen

 

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Cold Dreams

My eyes are becoming instantly wet and blurry,
From a haze of dust blown by the indiscriminate wind,
A radiant and red cloud of dust is dancing above earth,
I can’t tell whether to let my tears loose from dust or from what I feel

My heart is bleeding with a mixture of feigned hope and fear,
Like the swaths of struggling flowers that are experiencing nakedness,
Under the piercing blades of sunlight and unforgiving, harsh wind,
We are all part of the chaos that legitimizes our own existence

My desperate and wounded efforts have turned out to be a maze,
After directing and navigating tirelessly to places unknown,
For I heard that is where my dreams lay in silence waiting for my hand,
But their cruelty is marked from their absence from my searching eyes

The cruelty of these cold dreams is as hard as the day before,
This vicious cycle has made my eyes hung heavy with exhaustion,
The world can smell and even taste my brokenness and defeat,
As I slowly get covered by the black and gray sky that appears evil,

Now, the wind has gone up from gusts to gale,
I am hit by brief twists of shadows passing and going,
Scraps of orphaned green leaves are leaving shuddering trees,
This terrible reality threatens to carry me outside of time

But I stand still and demand a wind of myself,
I want to experience the physical chaos that resides within,
Fears and sorrows are honoring the pragmatics of my cold dreams,
I know this is a cruel phrase that enjoys preying on hope,
But cold dreams have blinded and exhausted my adrenaline

 

Whispers of the Sun

She had practiced walking from her dream,
She made quiet and measured footfall as the fall of petals,
Her eyes were dark, soft and romantic as those of a poet,
And with every new twist, they widened with new wonder,

A mask of concentration was spread all over her face,
It was as if she was willing for every wish to appear,
The soft early wind pushed her forward despite herself,
It fired her desire that was beyond thought and sweetness

The path was filled with deathly hollow and an infinite narrowness,
Every turn carried a strange mystery that only seemed to deepen hers,
On her sides, lay ravishing splashes of colors from standing tall trees,
They had began to flower, orange, yellow and green coloring,
The perfectness of the beauty they represented was too real!

She halted amidst her steps to fight back the tears springing in her eyes,
She was unprepared for the cascades of tears dripping her cheeks,
That morning was so freshly new that she could see her breath,
The beauty, tenderness and love of the universe surprised her

She willed her strength of discovering the meaning of her life,
She was searching for her happiness and that is all that mattered,
She was beyond the tyranny of time and was floating in it,
She was completely and totally absorbed in the vision of her,
The golden-yellowed strings of sunlight reflected that vision,
They were slow and achingly beautiful like the tunes of a violin

Inverted Blue River

Aston kamunde

All your dreams became inverted,
You can’t grasp life’s inverted chances,
You are now trapped in the inverted crowd,
The majestic view of your life is now inverted,

All values and symbols of power appear inverted
You caught in a labyrinth of inverted situations,
This is not how things should be!
In silence you shout over and over!

You had a clear view of how things should be,
In vain you mirror images and shadows,
Signs of the purest kind of love,
They are remote and enigmatic

They make your heart grandly sing,
As you sit alone deep in the woods,
You get lost in the pitter-patter of the blue river,
Eyes closed, you release your heart, body and soul

You do not realize that the blue river is inverted too!
So as the trees that house the inverted sleeping birds,
The attractiveness of everything is pure bliss,
All you…

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Inverted Blue River

All your dreams became inverted,
You can’t grasp life’s inverted chances,
You are now trapped in the inverted crowd,
The majestic view of your life is now inverted,

All values and symbols of power appear inverted
You caught in a labyrinth of inverted situations,
This is not how things should be!
In silence you shout over and over!

You had a clear view of how things should be,
In vain you mirror images and shadows,
Signs of the purest kind of love,
They are remote and enigmatic

They make your heart grandly sing,
As you sit alone deep in the woods,
You get lost in the pitter-patter of the blue river,
Eyes closed, you release your heart, body and soul

You do not realize that the blue river is inverted too!
So as the trees that house the inverted sleeping birds,
The attractiveness of everything is pure bliss,
All you needed was a worm-view to see clearly

The barbaric spectacle of this world,
But also the strange beauty,
It is red but also radiant,
Splendor that calls and traps your soul!

The Promised New

A particle of gold is worthy to be called gold,
Just as the salty taste of a drop of water from the vast sea,
I, endowed with all the qualities that entitle me to the universe,
Every minute measure in me is part and parcel of everything universal

I can feel the earth’s slow vibrations surging me forward,
The unseen yet real black power seems to shift everything,
Everything seems to be moving yet in reality not moving at all,
To places and experiences that are emblematic and intensely unreal

There are many paths each with its’ own doors to different experiences,
The paths have dancing flowers that are unshackled from tangles of leaves,
They contain a sense of indescribable gentleness that makes me forget,
And they are faded into different shades of colors that glee under the sunlight

I am walking in a world that is neatly balanced between dreaming and reality,
Fast images seem to slam my mind with mixtures of hopes and fear,
The meaning of these paths lies in the secret doors of experiences that awaits,
Trying to find these meanings present yet another experience that has no name,

But I know I have to choose between old spells and the promised new,
My face is decorated with double edged expression that betrays my dilemma,
But I force myself to grow away from self doubts that had held me down,
A firm refusal to be schematized and trapped again into old timely patterns,
I know positive power is only realized in its’ penultimate moment of blackness!