......Phosphorimental
The distances we must go to find ourselves... are negligible.
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
Keep an eye on www.good-graffiti.com and www.trashpoetry.com
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Saturday, June 28, 2014
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
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?
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.
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.
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.
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