My fingers blossom
My breath becomes myrrh
As I meditate
Into my chasteness
I become the calm.

Where my soul meets
Spirit's quietude
Hourglass waltzes
To being released.

I balance
To become
The woman

I want
To be


#Diminished Hexaverse

My One Square Meal

Like murdrum, seities are lost
Pullup of life, struggle to live
Denned life of misfortune
Income I eke, meagre paycheck
Survive I everyday
On succus, water and breadloaf
I search in my pocket for halalah
Forever thirsty and hungry
Hungry and thirsty forever
For halalah in my pocket I search
Everyday I survive
On loaf bread, water and succus
Paycheck meagre, eke I income
Misfortune of life denned
Live to struggle life of pullup
Lost are seities murdrum like.

Palindrome words used are below

This is a Palindrome poem I wrote a couple of years ago.I am posting this again because I know several poets here who are interested in various poetry forms, expecially you Brad Osborne @commonsensiblyspeaking. 

A Palindrome is a word, number, phrase, or other sequence of  characters which reads the same backward as forward. Composing literature in palindromes is an example of constrained writing.
I call it disciplined creativity.

The Jasmine Revolution

The hard face of freedom
Beckoning people to martyrdom
By the people, for the people
For future generations to come.

It is like the devil's decree
People know not where to flee
The blue blooded menace
Turning blind eye to people's plea.

In this civil resistance strife
Lost is the value of life
Sitting cozy in glass houses
Their exrtavagance rampant, rife.

Hang in there people, stay steady
Even though blue waters turn bloody
Egypt, Tunisia, Yemen, Libya
Soon a status quo of victory.


Language Of Poetry

There is a warm mystery 
In the way he talks to her
She reads him in time's suspense
Embracing his lines of
Smoky whisper of vetiver on skin

She aches for the rush of the warmth of his breath
Letting love lean into her
Letting him hold her soul
Letting the ink draw words out..

When the soul lusts with sensations of a poem
Letters become art
A scented inscription spells
Waiting for imagination to create reality

Illumination of candor...

#free verse

Little Musicians

I am a listener of birdsongs
Their rhythmic cadence carries me along.

Drenching the senses by their consonance
Sheer beauty of lyrical opulence.

They chase the anguish from my heart
Refresh the space of routes they chart.

Orchestrating ballads as the sun comes out
Little musicians warbling in nature's hangout.

To harmonize the atmosphere
With sounds of goodwill and cheer.

In the soft caress of zephyr that carries
Symphony of ditties over meadows, valleys.

Across expanse of the cosmos
Embracing the world with melodic notes.

Without syllables in their descant
Their aria sounds like a meaningful chant.

The sky smiles as their laughter resounds
In empyrean's cerulean playground.

Like rainbow clouds that light up the sky
I scribble words in the air and let them fly.

It's like tasting the air, becoming alive
When birds sing, it's like a fresh round of air supply.

Appaloosa Dawn

Appaloosa dawn- 
A Meadow-Lark sings 
On the Prairie.

Blackfoot country-
Mustang packs a dusty trail
Smell of fresh coffee.

Camping among pines 
In the Blues-
Plate of beef and beans.

Woodsmoke drifts-
Whisper of light in the mesquite
Am mighty short on shuteye.

Cottonwood trees sweep
A Sego- Lily moon--
The river rolls.

Night air comes down from the mountains gathering the darkness in the  cry of cicadas. I dip my inked fingertips in the rolling river, inhaling the moistened winter sky...elm trees shape words on my parchment.
There is a flash of lightening, a far off rumble of thunder..I feel a mite of rain on my eyelids.

Moon wanders 
As I sleep...
Moonflowers whiter than the moon...

Between sleep and dreaming, I learn something new about you...