dreams, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Sundog

Hyper-sleeping in diamond dust.
Above the dreaming pool
fingertips snaps,
bursting river feelings as
sudden swollen demands.
Let them permeate the earth.
Mother’s core contains all heaviness,
all sorrows and more seasoned scenarios.

Even though his voice
went into a vacuum void,
he was not confused in the darkness. Eventually the light passes through
pinhole dreams.

Daughter Colma, universal child
silently waits on the high hill.
Persistant to find her lover again.
Rising in the gloaming, out of clay, her love, shaped by the beam of fire.
Until summer days fill with ash,
and devotion,
goes beyond the river’s edge.
Swimming towards
the innerconnected horizon.
Up the arc of his haloed skin.
Willfully dripping prisms.

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dreams

The Colors Swell

What terrors?
surprises us out of our pleasures
Guzzling down demi-gods,
for a chance to walk down
that black opal bridge
Into the portal masterpiece;
a collection of reveries

The bleeding blot comes to me
in a green night
Enveloped in a vibration
A Rothko blur
Move backwards into chatoyancy
Waited eons to be scanned by those eyes
Like magnetic mountains pulled and left fragments of a ship
A fragile line,
as flowers are in the wintertime

The moonglow glittering
A buoyant royal blue
hovering over the golden velvet valley
A drowsy hum
Descending towards the door,
ossia,
Where the heart is full

 

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Kryptonite, Voyeur Poems

November Lights

Candy drops with sizzle thoughts
I thought I was young
I drag my fingers across your bountiful lips
Your sweet like vanilla beans
And rich cinnamon burst twist
All this luster under the sun
But as my heart listens
It tells a tale that glistens
Of convoluted kisses
And lies of self perseverance
By crumbled byzantine divinity

Heartbeats turn into
Hoofbeats
Blasts of bladed love
Sprinkle down into the easement of the night
In hopes that my dreams will repair my anxieties
For all I wish is to be naked with your unexplainable bliss
But all my favorites have been collected and protective
In a balloon lifted away or in a warren cave
And I’m a whirling spindle of lights
On the search, a kaleidoscopic spell

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Ceramics + Writing, dreams

Sleeping With Malachite (Part 2)

His mind softly touches my,
Exuberant ladder of dreams.

He is wrapped in a blanket
Of my layered terra.

Like a destined sleepwalker
He came right through.
But with care,
For my scared
Velvety ivory dog.
He even brushes
My bronzy beauties.

He gathers all
My thought patterns around.
Even one of my owl friends
Joins the funeral circle.

Who died?
Wait. What?
That’s me, wrapped
Like an egyptian mummy,
With malachite.

How could I have died?
A woeful projection
Hears me and explains,
“Drown in a lake of cadmium red.”

He shakes me awake
“Just another nightmare.”, I say
“But you were laughing
Not crying.”
He says.

I reply,
“Oh my unconscious lost my life.”
But with a more serious tone,
“I was under my fate.”

 

img_6503Poem & Art: Naomi Ruth W. Photograph : Erwin Blumefeld

 

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Ceramics + Writing, dreams

Sleeping with Malachite (part 1)

The owls are perching
On the ladders of my dreams again.
Heavy oppression,
Vacuuming the brilliance out of me.

My flint feeted girl grasping
Her inner world.
Where bells rung,
To set the horses galloping
Through green dust infinity.

What incubus?
Has dropped in my belly of layered terra;
With picks to pluck out
My dream felt exuberance.

To be awaken at 3:00 a.m.
With vacant swan girl stare.
Swathed in ivory guilt.
Did I forget?
The owls are my friends.
Above, with watchful hearts,
They strung up stripes of malachite.

Poem & Ceramic Art: Naomi Ruth W.

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Echo Muses 4.

The evanescent sparks

Pyrite in the night                                                                                                                                      well spent on gin lips.
Seductive as a lime-twist,
you feed my ego senselessly.
I dye my thoughts to fit your rapturous—
indigo fizzle
fingers unbent
erect
until your index touch
curls them into rhythm
crushing us back
in a swirl cloud
of crystal dust.
The comedown oblique as before
until in dreams,
I’ll usher in…
mining for your immersion.

Poem and Image: Naomi Ruth S. W.

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