nature

June Junkie

Eminence fully flowered,

orange and teal, yet still has a power,

as slot canyons and skies that cover June

Lilium asiatic double you,

a mystery, the many eyes—

in love—with sweet stirrings of you

Belladonna rose in offense,

in a stream of earthly moans—

sedation and sudden seduction,

towering over a wince

And the orange star laughs,

as the bees descend

Standard
Earthly voids & Spiritual quest, Echo Muses

King of Flowers

Manushya,
What are you running away from?
That park?
Your landscape is abundance of ten thousandfold,
Of crystal glistening visitors
With a spread of splendour roses;
Those parcels unwrapped and laid under the sun
For your tour is coming towards an end
You’re not running you say
But ascending out of the envelope
Becoming…
Pesh Deva
You step out faithfully
And your eternal soul hangs up that dressed matter

For: Puspesh

Art: instagram artist @mcptato

 

Standard
Collaborative poems, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Solar Cradle Soul

 Collaboration with Havoc and Consequence

Our burning photospheres
Once sprung forth to their highest peaks
The Sequoioideae of space, marvelling at our lofty heights
Yet a ruin grows in our binary bark
Threatening such chaos and calamity
Inevitably to be pulled into a great nebulous stir
Overcome by the tug of war
Of fighting zodiacs and the duplicity of time
The catastrophic collapse swell into the blossomed nova waves
An ethereal outreach on god’s fingertips

As our space sediments
Brought by stellar winds
Found their way to this cooling valley
Where we rose to life
Spread about on vast lush pastures of complacency
Fertile like the Nile’s riverbed
That stream of thought
Wavering on the edge of existence
Counting the memories as they floated by like clouds
And we began to bottle up and measure time
But our greatest fiction yet was to
Forget our stardust aril souls

But now we feel the metals in our blood
The fetter of cosmonaut coins that rattle in our brain
And that endless acceleration of gravity
The only feeling we allow ourselves
Our whirling fire
The core essence to recall
Orbiting a repose and the quietening of quantum regret
Our sunspots
Imprints as a marriage had once been
A snapshot
Capturing our ultraviolet ascent

Now we wait to be lifted up
Coddled once more in that stellar nursery
Suckling the teat of Shiva
Covered in the interstellar yoke of change

 31A772AB-3DEB-4AFB-8111-CDFFB6976260

Standard
love, Lunar Poems

Cords of Light

Feeling around this darkness, alone
Except for the lasso of earthshine
All I have, are these imaginings
If I was whole;
The light would break through these craters of eyes
And the vastness of dawn would nourish
our friendship like the wildflowers

Rumi says “Submit to love without thinking, as the sun this morning rose recklessly extinguishing our star-candle minds.”

Pinhole Photograph from: I am not this body by Barbara Ess

 

Standard
Collaborative poems, Lunar Poems

Battling the Sun

I found the king in my sour patch kids.
Summoning me to him.
Inch by inch.
The patchwork of truth beneath his sweet release.
Matted and mired in the threadbare trails of my existence.
All my thoughts encumbered into one, like the great shadow occulting the sun.
Moments before the light links to the dark.
I know the iconic gestalt will not escape my mind.
Now darker, as the black spirals into the white.
The nightingale consoles all the day’s dissonance.
While the chaffinch closes his eyes as he rushes the earth.
Which hand from which god reached into the heavens?
To blot out the sun and cover us with black oil.
Stuck down with feathers and falterings that overcome one another.
Reaching across each contour that shifts and shivers in our temporary aphotic zone.
Treading water with the creatures of the lunar deep.
Beholding the moonshadow through the trees.

IMG_8990
Images from Pinterest and Dark Souls III
Collaboration with Havoc and Consequence

Standard
Art Illustration + Poems

Lou Land

Rainwater
ambrosial liquid
soaking the perlite soil—
filling the ancient underworlds veins
of fire, with celadon still life beads

Slick cellophane in Lou’s waters
spanish moss shelters,
shamanic whispers,
weaving a wheel to rise the flames
to rejuvenate the scarlet scarred hearts and sundial those eyes,
that once streaked and
swiveled the stars;
in a half destroyed ocean yard

Art and Poem: NaRa

Standard