Death

Strip

Severed from him,
In the grave gaps I’m trapped
The jagged moon rock drags jet black
Like the color of his hair, that my fingers will never wrap
Death…oh woe…the psyche shivers;
So they poured shellac
Bottled away in this thymus madhouse
Anguish is my noun

Advertisements
Standard
Death, love

Resting Endearment

 

Confluent in my mouth,
Tonight I taste the turmeric essence of
Everything you told

That endearing echo remains
The nickname that gave
Oh “little one, little one”
Eventually must age
And
The thread frays

Like an untouchable
Covered in ashes of the thousands
From the same fire of the pyre
An atlas, we all must toil

6536DE6A-5F24-42AB-A781-FB3B1CE46D2B

Art by: Gregory Colbert

Standard
Buddhism, Kryptonite, love, Mental Health

Caution Tells

Not for the faint of the heart,
To lean into the longing
The heavy metallic dust
In the moonlit misery
I see it now,
The “Golden Girl” with
Obscure passion towards the seductive thread
Of a strayed friend

With dread,
I’m pierced into these toxic platitudes
Yet, my heart races for that final rest
Pumping red
Pulsating in my head

Have favor in me red
Even though their love will never come
Please don’t close the valves

Om Tare Tuttare Ture Soha

1923F8F1-F22C-4EF4-98F7-F7E2B2D8A111.jpeg

 

Standard
Echo Muses, love

Love Formations

The enormity of love, sliding down
in your slot canyon
I’m isolated by your beauty,
consumed in the dreams of youth
Abandoning centuries
for this kind of love

I feel apart of it esculating
and you want me paramount
But I feel my ancient hurts spinning in the wind
Cocooning me with prickles of whispers,
and whimpering lies that are winding my clay heart brittle

 

Standard
Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Renewed in Yantra

Before in a way, I’ve been dying to be reinvented
But I’ll settle and wait in the hedged maze
Because the real cause is living for a miraculous effect

As I open my heart towards the sky,
A lark locks with my eyes
And I know one day soon
The End Game —
Moksha

Out of the park,
I’ll vanish from this borrowed time
Like a blink of an eye
Sifted through a sieve of light
By the archiver — the keeper of light
Merciful Hara,
Will come racing like a true knight
Behold his holiness,
I sip through his eyes the nectar
To be spun into a love design
And merge back into Bindu

 

Standard
Color, love

The Rainbow Tree

In my sanctuary, the cerulean butterflies nestle
Their rhythmic fluttering peels my bark,
To expose my inward colors
That spill out and color-bomb as a rainbow
into your streets,
inside your home,
into your bedroom
and to dance in the loom of your heart
That flows upward
sensing to change the curvature of your mind
Into shuddering ecstasy
of the smearing iridescent presence of me

“Blue is the warmest colour” -Alt J

1B448444-51BC-4330-BA2B-03EE0EE0659E

Standard
Uncategorized

Checkers and chess

Havoc and Consequence

How to topple the king which wears the crown so royally.
Moments and magnesium fill the place of diamonds and gems.
Wrapped in much Fools gold.
And the crown heaves down, rubbing red and raw.
Check
A life long lived with much regret.
Check.
How we turn the heels and fled.
To learn a life in which to lead, we watch the others.
Little eyes through holes in fences.
A voyeuristic violation, into their little galaxies.
That swirl and sway like the black in the white.
Changing from dismay, into delight.
And you take this horse by the reigns, and lead me through the forest.
Through the clearing of my ill begotten ways.
Out of the woods, out of the storm.
Peppering poppies that fill my lungs with such poisonous perspective.
And show me.
That I had been asleep all this time.

View original post

Standard