Wind-II

Wind –II

The mellow night lights the stars
And the full moon.
Its craters darken from the light it reflects
Onto my heart.
There’s the suns’ energy
Untyring, undying spirit,
Lighting up my eyes,
With flecks of gold from the firelight,
Crackiling cinders,
Flames licking the gutted logs with a femme touch.
I lay my head in the sand,
Staring at the sky as stars fill my eyes, ever-ready
To be named and decorated
The celestial home,
My earth, my home, my haven, my sacred shelter for the questing soul.
I don’t need a reason to be happy and relaxed here,
It comes out of nature, a habit
This planet, planet Earth, goddess Earth,
Mother earth, protector of us all that
I share my home with, a heaven,
Yes, it’s heaven, it’s no where else
Because we’re born here and belong
To this part of the Milky Way.
In this goddess’s hands each one of us is
Special, loved and cared.
She blesses and endows us with
Beauty, individuality and security
And binds us all into one
breath.
Every 3 seconds the planet breaths together,
So pray on every 3rd breath
To fill this word with happiness and peace,
United, the peace and love is forever.

WIND

Wind

Feel the wind toss
Up my hair
Strands, that fly across my face, tickle and
Caress me.
The sudden touch of an angle,
lights up my face, bright
but I can only close my eyes.
I do not wish to see this angle ,
If only to end up judging it.
The feeling is pure and a high
And that’s all I want-
Little dots of sparkling mika- dust
Twinkiling on my glowing golden-brown skin,
I’m happy to be alive and breathing
Fluttering my clothes of pure white silken-cotton,
My feet softly stepping on clouds of desert sand.
The exceptional cool at sunset and dawn..
The sensual softness of the sand and wind
and my blowing hair and music somewhere
remote in my mind.
Playing a soft, mellow melody,
Makes me smile from my belly button,
Rising up, filling me,
Sun-burnt skies mellow to a twilight
purple haze,
the sun has set,
but my smile hasn’t.

Drink

There will be blood, I said
on the great platform, a flute full,
from your vein
in a flute
like wine
I'll drink.
Into you.
My breath sinks and rises like fumes of insence
mixes with the scent.
A tablet of rat-kill they left out for me.
But to be a rat it takes supreme care and precision.
Practice till there is no difference between me and it.

just scuttering in the street way as ogers of odd sizes make up the sea and the sky I float on.
Till I reach your throne
and sink in my teeth and
change back to who I am
A blood-sucking power hungry merciless
woman.
My eyes are red from insomnia and the rage of my past
the sky is red from my tears.
The graveyard has my sunken footprints that
don't fill up in the rain.
And the flowers will not dry on your grave.
Your memory will never fade.
It will always be just yesturday when you sat
where I sit.
Your face sparkling with the secptical smile.
Secptical is what power makes you, but I am yet to find that out!
Your blood was like the sweetest wine.. the elixir
that the soul dreamed of
my sweet victim,
Do not cry,
your voice is in the darkness..

My life thro a paper shreader

My life through a paper-shreader



I'm going throuh a paper shreader...
long strips of my life
like a reel of film....
Passing out like a bunch of box pleats of a skirt,
scrunched up too tight at the top,
flapping out at the bottom.
Graduating through with honours,
shaking their bodies in a Hawaian dance.
Some of them were supposed to be my
study notes.
For something or the other..
too bad I'm out of notepaper for this.
A study of my life through a shreader.
Going to present a paper
on the whining sound and
the dustbin it all falls into
scratch, scratch, graze graze.
like my teachers nails on the black-board.
She thinks of doing that every time she sees me..
make that noise.
Better then when I'm around.
Walking into the class-room
every morning,
the flat of my sneaker against the flooring
and the sand paper pupils of peeps on
my posture.
A continuose connection
of judgment, a test, an inconfidence
or no-confidence in any sort of limit of repulsion.
Mellow notes of the flute,
My heart an African drum,
a tom-tom, hipnotizing,
sleep-inducing rhythm of everyday life
Tear out chunks of my skin if you can.
Habituated to the insult of my clothes against my skin.
like a punishment for some past sins.
I seem to forget them,
"oh how convinient,"
Like every breath on my lips
and my hair moving to my continuous touch.
African elephants through my brain and on my skin
like ants that crawl and bite off.
Bits of my sanity.
The window attracts me,
I move away from the shreader.
I just finished this reel.

blood boils

Two minutes ago I was fighting fit till
I thought about today's situation
sudden gloom settled like dark clouds
ready to pelt on my heart
raindrops to hailstones
numbness and hurt all the same...
there is so much ignorance
why am I feeling this pain?
I try to disasociate, but I cannot tear the thought out
of my brain.
I cannot dissect and remove the electrical connections that
remind me of today or the heart
so that it would rain on my dry diaphram,
so cool to the skin and the innards
pin points of blood,
bubbling in the vein spurt out...
like distinct phuts and
spray one after the other....
drip drip through my brain

ESCAPE

My Escape


The empty depth of my soul.
vacant and white.
With random images of
Manga characters,
their powers, their desires,
reflecting on the base of this emptiness..
The water surface..
My soul is a lake,
around it a forest
of green and brown,
Lively colors, but no sound.
None at all.. just visuvals.
The leaves move, the water ripples.
droplets of the dew on pale latice of an old leaf
like you would call a spider's web.
There is nothing else,
except the elements and the trees.
And defiantly no element of sound.
So here I can block away what I cannot see.
Permanatly, disregard the truth's existance.
It may be there, the sound, I mean,
I may be deaf...a posibility.
This is the silence I seek.
I do not seek out the existance of sound,
nor that how may trees shead their leaves.
the water is clear, blue green
in my iris, like ice, but soft like my breath.
So calm, so quiet.

hey who the hell told you I had a deifeciency for common sence??

To tell you the truth... I lost my common sense in that last coke-float I downed....bottoms up....there was too much of the vanilla essence in that batch and the coke wasn't cold enough and the froth that usually freezes was all aired out in the ac of the take away...um... tat was cold crap.... had to walk home with a sore butt and a sore neck with spondulitis problem... and it's not because of my weight...its 'coz of my wait...