Day 14: Nocturna

Laying awake in the darkness alone

Beneath a sky blanketed bright by stars

Travelling light over such distance thrown

To dance across vision, stories unfold.

Beasts eyeing queens nearby hunters with scars

Young maidens enchained, seek those heroes bold

Saying how goes, as above so below.

The places we know, the faces were ours

Fading now softly in low eastern glow

—

Aubade Acrostic

Day One of the 2015 A to Z Challenge

An pair of sonnets, in Alfred Dorn & Arabic form:

morning —

Every time that light climbs up, to lie,

Drifting o’er the rosy horizon,

Peeping through the window of my room

A stir, feeling around there, to here, I sighed

at the pillow, not to arise then

Rather to dive deep into the bloom

lapsing lucidly between dreams, sweet,

where not alone, I am, in these sheets.

Taking flight throughout all space sans time

Mounted so oft upon elephant

Through universes far, near and wide

Created, merkabah, propellant

Gliding along ways seeking her side,

Opened eyes, materialise, in essence

—

                                                      abstract —

Above all causes of expression

Beyond the most distant dimension

Staring into dawn of ascension

Tearing down opposite dissension

Realising the forest from leaves

Amid high mountains twisting the breeze

Collapsing energetic waves freeze

Time, as it collapses and he sees

Illusions set forth from within deep

Octaves of perception, whence they creep

Not aware of stillness, lost to sleep,

Into reality seeking light

Spreading darkness, to their own delight

Trying to extinguish one so bright

—

–

Whithering Fair

Whithering in her stare

Though it isn’t even there

Whether in her gaze or far

My brain turns loose, unjarred

Caught within her grace

My heart in outer space

Beyond feelings unexplained

In glances made in vain

This yearning hollow bowl

With her to fill my soul

—

Day 19: Sleep, A Sonnet

Keeper of most secret desire

Most elusive mistress of the night

Last solace and protector of light

Away from the evil eye of ire.

Comfort is found when dead tired

The place most hope to be free of fight

A realm where one ought feel their own might

Where safely burns the inner fire.

Oh to be there free, safe and dreaming,

Away from thoughts in my head screaming,

Keeping me up through cold winter chill

Always awake, save escape in pills,

Dulling the mind, so I choose to spend

Time laying asleep or so seeming

—

 

Day 13: My Muse

I seem to have fallen a day behind but that’s what sundays are for. Or perhaps another post this evening. So we press on.

—

The source of inspiration

A sound like hearts beating.

Ephemeral and fleeting

She comes to my ear,

Whispering the words

Long strings of verbs

Translations of subconscious thought.

Together we’ve fought

Through times of doubt

As pages scream out in vain.

She comes in my dreams

To mend all the seams

Weaving ideas into matter.

I’ll never know why she does

I’ll assume it’s plain love

Piped in from above

To keep me growing

Hoping by showing

~Expression~

We’ll be free to live

As is pleasing.

—

A Canvas in 3’s (part iii)

But the I that waits,

still elevates, though mind,

beyond matter,

coalescing from infinite, scattering

across the million faceted

soul, fleeing cold.

Escaping from past,

for boldness,

future is now

—

A Canvas in 3’s (part ii)

Gliding across chaos, space

filling strokes, bitter as tastes

of emotion, flows this ocean.

I see within me,

truly, captivating

in its beauty. Moments

when the waves break

& wash over my heart

—

A Canvas In 3’s

So I’m waiting, contemplating,

visions of the canvas

as it stands and stares,

capturing my prayers.

The thoughts come, unaware

of their presence, hidden dimensions

reaching from my open eye.

—

Dream Flow

With a beat in my head, words bounce off the page. Maybe insane, but sometimes most sage.  A streaming piece of consciousness live and unfiltered.

—

Running out of time spent up on the line

While they’re sleeping in dreamland.
Mind awake my body shakes ,

Can’t escape the feeling it’s not real.
Reality dripping at the seams

or maybe it’s Jim Beam.

Anyone to stop the the voice that screams,

anything I drop between these sheets,

falls in emotion,  magic potion,

tell no lie, I already died.

Now I’m trapped in the commotion,

Outside life, hidden strife,

where the struggle is the ocean.

So deep & blue, like me & you,

but we’re drowning, now apart when

frowning hearts, after dark

in the shadows where we reign.

Now the memory is all pain.

Can’t just force it, I adored this.

Now I’m coming out the tunnel,

it’s got me running double,

But you swore this, what part did I miss?

When the love that made us strong

has us both wrong. Crying O lord,

it’s a vacuum of the truth.

Mixing models, tripping bottles

like a whore’s bliss.

Endless conquest.

—

Sonnet 717

The hours spent on rhyme

Setting words in place

Daydreaming of that face

Would seem to most a crime

An unuseful waste of time

But within her sacred space

In presence of such grace

I nearly lose my mind

Thinking of how lips would taste

Imagining the loving stare

Whispers expressing words so kind

Gently wrapped around her waist

Caught up in a world of care

Something lost I seek to find