http://lovelydreamingfoxes.tumblr.com/

Belletristic Blathering & Trash Poetry -
Phosphorimental is just a placemat for
the dribblings and crumbs of creativity.
Keep an eye on www.good-graffiti.com and www.trashpoetry.com

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Love is a steady wind 
that erases what we know of it 
as soon as we try to grasp.  
It is pre-eternal wisdom, 
named by God, 
whispered only in the heart.

A feather softly landed. 
Let it lie.
Ti’s an attribute of another name.

Eternal light,
Not intermittent flame.
When called through lips
A sound, a kiss became.

When a breath says “love”
It’s lost to winds,
Only to land
if it flies without words again.

Of this fierce glow 
that Love and You
Within my breast inspire,
The Sun is but a spark that flew
And set the heavens afire"

Thursday, June 26, 2014

What They Say


It's not always what we say with these lips...

Friday, June 20, 2014

I am just one wave in the ocean that tumbles and fades on your shores

my true love is the tide that retrieves me and bades me, "return, come again, try again."

Thursday, June 19, 2014

What is truth

What is truth,
but a silent look of acknowledgement,


between a source that knows its destination
and a destination that knows its source.

Oceans and rivers call to one another
One awaiting completion, the other fulfillment.

The reed flute and the reed bed
Exchange sigh for silence and suffer the scythe.

The eyes are mirrors
For the modest soul behind them,

and the soul that stands before them.
Clarity beckons clarity, to beget clarity.

Beheld by the beloved
like grey smoke dancing in an invisible wind

The shadow finds its solace in darkness,
The illuminated finds peace within illumination

Two mirrors infinitely reflect the truth.
So, how could I not want to know more of the unknowable.

What is a more truthful true than beholding with the heart
That which cannot be seen with the eyes?

Parched Earth, Quenched Heart

Irony, the beautiful mosaic of a fragmented heart
What more brings rain to remembrance?
O'Beloved, I remember.

It is in my silence
that You hear
how my burning thirst
mouths a drought of tears.

Hearts pump harder
when we bleed, as
Absence sounds the hollows
Of the waiting reed.

Into enormity of emptiness,
the vastness of the beloved to disclose
The sweetest water ever sipped
- by the lovers parched and longing lip -
is the fragrance of the wine red rose.

Inspired by a dear friend, Omid Safi, who wrote:  "This parched earth is our heart. 'Know that God revives the earth after it was dead.' Qur'an 57:17.  Our hearts are like this too: something parched, starving for the rain of affection, and then, miraculously, brought back to life. Praise be to the One who revives what was abandoned for dead, with the water of life….love unleashed."


Writers Comment
Poem adapted from my original note:

It is our silence He hears.
It is our thirst that drinks.
The heart pumps harder, when we bleed.
It is the lightness of absence
that moves the tides of company.
It is the vast emptiness
in which the enormity of the beloved
discloses.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Human Gems

 
"I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes.
I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words.
The perfume of love cannot be concealed." ~ Nizar Qabbani

"the perfume of love cannot be concealed,"

...nor its fragrance returned
and resealed in its vial.

The human being is a facetted gem
that cannot contain it's true light.

Those who love genuinely, divinely,
emanate their clarity, color, and cut.


 


 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Tear Streams in Renditional Evolution


Poetic rendition 3:

Todays our eyes fill with tears
from a voice, a song once filled our ears
could quench an aching world, today, back then
if we'd just all fall in love....again.

O' gather up those endured sorrows
my lovely friends of yesteryear and morrow
and set sail on these saline streams...
toward remember-when - foretold in dreams.



Poetic rendition 2:

Todays tears in our eyes
from hearing a voice, a song back then
could quench an aching world,
if we'd just all fall in love....again.

O', gather up those endured sorrows
my lovely friends
and set sail on these saline streams...
toward remember-when.

There - time and distance, have no say
There - we RE-arrive to not part ways
and what was once,
is happily, magically...always.


Original Poetic Rendition

There - time and distance, have no say
There - we RE-arrive to not part ways
for what is now, will become "once"
happily --  magically -- always.Todays tears in our eyes
from hearing those songs back then
could quench an aching world,
if we'd just all fall in love....
gather up those endured sorrows
my lovely friends
and set sail on these saline streams...

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

What is Not Reveals What Is

Who we are not, weathers through time
be it by water, wind, will or wine.
Gazing at the talus of our becoming

Amidst the course, drifts the fine.

Our purpose is to bear the breeze
With lips to cup, till weakened knees
Besotted within a life between
Pre-eternal, post eternity.

Thirsting through our body’s gristle
flows the milk beneath the thistle
you, true content sans container
Are pulsing spirit, interstitial.

Life as we [don't] know it


Oh, Beloved,
since finding me,
you have ruined my life
and enlivened my death.

What more can one offer
in gratitude and remembrance.

This duality confounds me. 
You are not my opposite, 
Nor I yours.

The closest I can come 
to being One with You, 
is to first be nothing. 
And how do I make work of this? 

Unity lies in the infinite distance
of the great artists vanishing point,
I need only look to the farthest horizon 
in this portrait of life.

It is


It is our silence He hears.
It is our thirst that drinks.
The heart pumps harder, when we bleed.
It is the lightness of absence
that moves the tides of company.
It is the vast emptiness
in which the enormity of the beloved
discloses.

This love is going to kill me

This love is going to kill me,
Each remembered kiss a slice
to my heart, drawing rivers of words,
to exsanguinate on pages upon pages
of never-ending, ending.
Love bleeds like a sorrowful spring
and yet I keep defending, defending.

Tonight is a night to embrace the lover
to rattle our shells from our ocean's echo
and stir like soul winds wound
in contrapposto... An inhale cedes
In a sigh sweet staccato.

Within the offset sheets of folded rose skin
cured as parchment, pages to be opened
A torch cast shadows on the hearts wall
The rose is illuminated by and all
born from the light of creation.

Impregnated by dew, grape swells to a drop
to burst and roll down the blade
of the vintner's sword into the goblet
O tiny red ocean, O fermentation
release me now, the ransom is paid.

He said I've plucked many roses
from countless bushes
Placed them in fine crystal vases.
But you are a garden
and I, to die,
have been placed within you,
In placeless places.

This one catches flight on anothers breeze
so many cross winds to the sea
This one leather, that one caramel
to be brindle, to be softened
Kun faya koon, kun faya koon
Be, so it is to be.

Oh God, I hate this distance,
that keeps my mouth watering.
Watering for Thee.

Whispering


I have discovered
that God whispers 

among those who proudly proclaim love.
The latter takes us for loves fool 

but I take the whisperer 
as a lover. 

Just whisper.

Grandfather

his skin looked like tree bark... 
and he died on the outside. 
but inside, he was still a tree. 
a big wise tree.

those who give

Those who give,
travel within the deep hull of the given…
this exchange builds a seaworthy vessel
The way your ship lists
is a lullaby.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Humans

Wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw attention to themselves.
They are unable to avoid the same eventual malady
but their symptoms are beautiful to behold.

They are painters of great landscapes,
yet challenge painters to capture their colors.
Their greatest moments come during their downfall.
And our rejuvenation comes with their rebirth.

They are the harbingers of memories
of when we climbed among them.
Yet they harbor children in their earthy smell and dampness
before they return again to the earth from the pyre.

They are from various branches of the same order
and keep their life force locked in large cells,
Which escapes as the year wears on,
eventually killing the jailers, and battening down their homes.

But were they not to die,
they might never be born.
Were they not to mingle in the eddying winds,
they would remain quite content,

but all the less noticed.
Regardless, wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw attention to themselves.
Humans be humble, lest we forget

the wonder of tree leaves.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Die Beautifullly


Were a rose to know the gift of its own fragrance, 
it would surely die... fulfilled. 

Sweet attar of its sigh
lulls open the red petals of my own empty heart

who could behold such hollowness
without imaging all it can hold

'tis recompense for the rose, I draw deeply...
and die beautifully.

An Empty Gift


A gift is fragrance out of breath
fled from the abode of the urn
seeking respite of a wayfaring vessel 
within whom, it makes its return.

Be not daunted, open the cover,
Draw deeply from spirits fathomless well
Oh, water bearer for the soul of dry parchment,
A river of words erodes the truth a mountain can tell.

Lo, winds of wisdom for the seeking leaf
Softly turn its empty pages
Stir them not, but deliver the stillness
Spoken through the love of inner sages.

Leap not, be gently drawn
Oh, sojourner, not so soon,
Soft, the precipice waits for you to cast
From the abode of your own perfume.

Those who give, journey on
Deep in the heart of others who are given
And when the page seems dark, find the spark
When the flint of the lover strikes the Beloveds frizzen.


(written for a writer at http://skyblueandblack.com/)
Happy Birthday Maha #

Dance Change



Big changes propagate from the slightest shift.... 

one small pebble will unsettle a placid pond... 

parted lips can divide a nation... 

Change within is the dance, 

all around us is music

And we are the musicians... 

Change is not an effect, 

it is the cause... 

play your own music, Mystic! 

And everything dances around you.



(To change your life, you must first live the change.)