Death, Grief, Mine Na Poems

Down in the grotto of my heart

Down in the grotto of my heart

The swarm swells,
Into the anguish well
Where I wallow in my ancestors’ wounds
Mauve and violent, flame-scarred,
On the train tracks

The past and present entwining,
On raised birthmarks
Through German arms…
“Great-Grams, I would have held you back”

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A desire for, love

Her name felt save in his mouth

Her name felt save in his mouth

Sliding down that mossy sink of darkness;
Where the moonmilk seeps above his head
And drops like sugary moonbeams down
His Irish skin

No mirrors, to reflect his cocooned crystals
Only pitch black shape-shifters,
In the misty middle rock

As a memory of indigo burnings surfaces,
And his exuberance is unleashed
He swims over luminescent calcite flowers,
And splashs in the pale, pearly thoughts,
Of how the way she’ll let him in

By a passage of mystical beauty,
Growing from tension, compression, and bubbles that crowds…
Until…
Yielding softly overhead,
To his language of love
And burrowing down into that wide mouth
Of security and curiosity

     Photograph: Ryan McGinley

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utopia – dVerse Poetics

Singledust

Related imagedepositphotos

Written for dVerse poetics hosted by Amaya – I decided to go fluffy on this prompt, visit the pub for other poetic Utopias.

My version of Utopia – includes my favourites – Snow and Europa 

in the basement of self ruin
welcome, we sip dandelion tea
let’s string words on a marigold
sit and lean against the cold

deep inside the rooted hills
hollow out a stool or three
prepare a fresh batch of dreams
please sugar coat its seams

we wait for the enshrined mauve
sweet and fair Europa maiden
to join our merry band
and then we are complete

in the warmth of our make believe
I’d share my blanket of Snow
you’d bring the cut glass urn
as she spins diamonds off Saturn

and when this Utopian day is over
our minds like an avenoir
will slide into brown sugar lumps
and find peace in…

View original post 20 more words

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Echo Muses

Motherly Heliotrope

The colors of autumn
Where are they now?
Desaturated and lost in the waves of sight

Pass the forest and come to the purple door,
Three knocks to come forth,
To the stoney garden of the lady with jars

Lost in pensive thoughts, spilled out in tender rains, into the caldron of the cosmos
Cast a bond towards jove…. impart the love of a mother

As purple sage burns the diminishment of pain, and what remains,
Purple ash is scattered from the hands of a mother
Saturating the earth, to spring forth a cathedral of amethyst trees

Halloween spell for : Gina@Singledust

Imagine: pininterest

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Death, dreams

Burnt

Mapping the voids of a phosphorescent microscopic oasis
Touching the talisman of the chemist mind…
Interior soft blue
The unshattered chandelier before…
The carbon choke misery

In the end of the century,
bees will seek the flame
As lava once flowed out of lunar rage
Smothered terra and blacken ash…
Runes of the meaning of grace
The trees will broadcast our dreams,
Of sobs muffled by the blaze
As the dusty feet of bees,
Are retired whispers in the torrid breeze

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Color, Death, love, Relationship

I remember the rain

In the ashen light, venus’s hazel glow ring,
Peeks out tonight
Near the White Cliffs of Dover, boney traces of Wollastonite
Again on the edge,
I grasp a clump of what is tangible
Beneath my thoughts of decay,
A sweet visage still lingers
And keeps the Bardo at bay

For all those weeks of pixelated entertainment,
The last of those hypnotic hours
I pulled you deeper into the sedative darkness
On the back of your elbows, in agony you waited
Like water droplets dripping down the Windowpane
Imprinted forever, the pleasure I gave

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