Late Confession

Silence tonight’s ringing through my ear

Let it go, it’s something can’t I hear

Mainly the only thing I blame myself for

Hundreds he asked if he was just a friend or more

Not a single time I showed any obsession

Too late now comes my confession;

You’ve conquered the mind and the heart

The day you stepped in to my life is my life’s start

In streams of real tastes you bathed me

Organizing the world as it should be

Me, to happiness you wedded;

“Life’s no scratch paper to be shredded”

You drew and paint a world so rustic

You’ve made it ours; simple yet like magic

Every single thing there sounded merrier

For you believed that no war’s won by a sad warrior

You built me
a castle

And you left in
a hustle

Saying no even proper goodbye

Leaving me peace
in mourning color
to dye 

I’ve walked in tears
to that room
by the end of the hall

I’ve seen what
you painted over
your wall;

Widow has become the Bride before she walks that aisle

Fate carved “The End” before she even started her Tale

November’s Blossom

Seems like hundreds of years flew away

On a heart with no beat struggling to stay

November the 6^th was the date

When it skipped some beats to a classmate

The whole world dwelled in his eyes

Beaming blue as our eternal skies

Forbidden dreams there were born

Fatal silence by screams worn

The World in his world I did see

Yet to notice, blind was he

Once again I wasn’t right

Left I turned when Right was right

Between friendship and love born pain

I chose friendship, but reached for vain

For I couldn’t control a lost beat

His shadow by me left no empty seat

But I chose the hardest, and it was a lone choice

I set sail, but haunts my time his voice

“Plum Blossoms” painting by Jia Lu

Fear over years grew

Tears cut but never sew

Finding no peace in my roam

Flew back again home

It was a sweet November day;

The sixth since I sailed away

The way drove me to an old road

Along, trees and breeze composed an ode

There I was on school’s gate

Once again a slave of fate

Memories stormed inside

Couldn’t find any shelter to hide

Until a tender hand woke my shoulder

I turned to see who dares making my reborn beats molder

Paralysis stroke my storm when eyes met

“I knew I’ll find you here; I do regret

Didn’t know how precious you were till you sailed the seven seas

Leaving me ticks to count and a beat hard to ease

I’ve waited you for so long

Your heart is where I belong”

I grabbed all the courage I could

To set fire on a wet wood

Drenched in tears for years

But then stole my voice cruel fears

And I found myself hiding in his bosom

November’s no more in Fall; there I was in blossom

Counted Ticks

Fallen from her original tone she said, “10 days late”

My grounds rose till skies whispered, “240 more you’ve to wait”

Bringing together fibers from joy gone apart

The special date was carved on the calendar of my heart

Feed the chimney; dust off the cold

Paint the room in ivory and gold

Plant jasmine and sprinkle life’s essence

Sing psalms and burn incense

Invite the sun, stars and the moon

An Angel will arrived home too soon

My Princess

 

Deep in my heart born a symphony of time

Composing a welcome-note in love rhyme

Tick-tuck… woke up dawn waking pain in her deep

With each contraction, my beats did leap

One.. Two.. Three.. and the fourth accompanied with a cry

Showing up with the first ray saluting sky

The ray destined to erase chill

O’… her name shall be Rachel

August’s most beautiful rose

Look at those tiniest toes!

Shall I count! O’ no; I’ll count no more

You’re between my arms now; the only one I’ll ever adore

A Wizard with no Magic Stick

What type of angels are you?

If it’s a secret; oh just give me a clue…

Sun conceals to the golden honey of your hair

Sand against your barefoot in massaging develops flair

Sky dyes her feather stealing blue from your eyes

And to your wink, blush butterflies

You cross summer, and bushes turn trees

Erasing hotness by gentle breeze

And in winter as you walk a street

Rain stops, and storms retreat

What type of angels are you?

If it’s a secret; oh just give me a clue…

Painting by Molly Brill

Like a wizard however showing no trick

You sprinkle peace waving no magic stick

And every time I feel down

You show up drawing a frown

Breaking no silence, you spread your wings

I run and hide where dwell fresh springs

I cry rivers and you squeeze me in much care

Your tender fingers erase pain as climb my hair

For the rivers to go dry, you patiently wait

Then tenderly you say; “I’m all ears mate”

What type of angels are you; ages report

I’m a sailor, and you’re an ancient port

Non-breakable is our bond; new ports ain’t seduce my ship

Of your blood I drank, and you drank of mine as we signed friendship

Epics of Mystery

A Wizard; who else you could be!

Knocking my Gate from behind the seventh Sea

Whispering no word yet weaving ages: Epics of Mystery

A Goddess in the Lost Land of Eden; me, you paint

When I’m no Goddess not even a kin of a Saint

“Flowing Dreams” Painting by Glen Tarnowski

An Angel destined to sprinkle blesses over the homeless

When I’m broken-winged and only my chains are chainless

Dressing me the shimmering armor of a Warrior of Light

When I’m a war-announcer only when myself is the one to fight

Sculpturing me a statue of wisdom

When my pilgrimage fails reaching the outer walls of its kingdom

Wedding me to the altar of Peace

When even my every fiber aches to be a whole piece

Worshipping me as a Savior of fallen Fate

When I’m the first fallen scripted on its plate

A Wizard; who else you could be!

Knocking my Gate from behind the seventh Sea

Whispering no word yet weaving ages: Epics of Mystery

Ask no seasoning of a bee weeping an empty hive

I’m just a Mermaid whose tail isn’t strong enough to cross Winter-deep alive

Ask no pollen of a Lillie raped through a storm and scared again to yield

I’m just a Fairy in short of Pixie-dust to roam the blooming Field

Ask no honey of sterile branches to birth fruits do ache

I’m just a Genie who sets free all’s dreams when hers are sentenced to the stake

A Wizard; who else you could be!

Knocking my Gate from behind the seventh Sea

Whispering no word yet weaving ages: Epics of Mystery

Sky Number Nine

 

 Flying kingdom wore no more black

As its queen from her long trip’s back

Soil under crawling snow started chanting

And woke up a dying heart to join dancing

But soon happiness cancelled its stay

Promising to show up longer another day

When a Gentle passed by asking me for few moments

Saying they’ll be more precious than Christmas ornaments

Drawing him an answer with a shy smile, he took my hand

And gently whispered, “Would you say yes if you’re asked by me forever to stand?”

“The Sun Sets Sail” Painting by Rob Gonsalves

The earlier drawn smile became so old

Faded in silence like an aging Marigold

And I was in front of two candles; to stay in light, should put off one

Love or Friendship; which has a brighter sun!

Perhaps I know nothing about the first

But friendship’s sacred and waters every thirst.

Why you’ve set my boat in the ocean of nowhere;

Rowing’s hard when you know not heading to where

You know I’d stand by you to pass any trouble,

You know whenever you’re there my smiles just double

But friendship’s got the ninth if love’s known to conquer the seventh sky

I love you, but I’d never sacrifice this bond for a try

Holy is the sun you’ve carved on your name with mine

Yet worthless sounds any sky compared to sky number nine

Nameless Charm

 

 

“” Couldn’t a rose survive with no thorn!

Beats would never, in love, wake any morn“”

Lips kept this tone ever since, there, words were born

Thought the tone will see no change,

Till the day I felt a tinkle quite strange;

“Giovinezza” Painting by Thomasz Rutt

Crawled my blood like a winter river

In the absence of cold, words did shiver.

It wasn’t the head, chest or liver

 

Sick, I’ve become of the heart,

And all was nothing but a start

Day after day, pale turned the face

Doctors for sickness found no trace

Yet one whispered, you need a healing embrace.

Well. Guess I do… I badly need a hold;

Got bored of summers so cold

Can’t I hold the beat since we’ve met;

Through his eyes, hid the charm of a sunset…

I’m gone crazy, I bet.

His silent lips grabbed an ocean of words

He was the hunter, and I; the only shot among birds

Neither the hands shook nor did the lips talk,

Yet sat out the eyes for a long walk

Where nothing but the souls spoke and spoke.

Nothing’s since then quite the same

Oh…Wish I could have asked about his NAME…

Fragile Caresses

Wakes up earth, sun’s laughter

Again beauty defeats the beast

Robbed my sanity spirits of the Far East

There even dust is precious to run after.

Crossing the seven seas

In holy Lotus to bathe

Deep cuts to swathe

And breathe, the Eastern breeze

“Morning Blossom” Painting by Vladimir Kush

Great Mekong, I visited first

Raising my fallen heaven

From ethereality, I let loose lungs to raven

Healing an aging thirst…

Two canaries were in a chase

Slowing down, seeking a landscape

Safe enough, so curious eye they could escape

Soon picked a berry hidden space

As they landed their tired wing,

They caressed, kissed and embraced

Uncaring any more of being traced

They’re free, and that’s the way they sing…

One…two… and three peaks

Exhausted their heart beat

But couldn’t cease missing till they meet

Once again thirsty for love ached their beaks

With each kiss, blushes my bloom;

Fragile they are caring for no laws

Chaining what’s between knees and nose

O’ how perfect is life with no taboos of Human doom!

Drunk

If you’re pondering over why did I go,

One true thing you should know

I’ve never left you behind

You settled long ago in mind

But your hug couldn’t I resist

That tenderness told me that I exist

“Solitary Thoughts” painting by Jia Lu

And I was scared to fall in your arm

I know, there, nothing dares to harm

I was on fire yet hands did shiver

When you hold, my veins freeze like a winter river

And ice ages covering my heart melt

No word can describe how I felt;

You whispered for the first time, “I love you”,

And I felt sacred; bathing in holy dew

Pinch me, so I know it’s no dream

Hold my confusion in esteem

Say it again, it’s like sunshine

Shower me, and I’ll be no more only addict to wine

Oh say it again, so I forget I’m a daughter of a Monk

Hold me firm; your love won over wine and left me drunk

There He Kept a Garden

There He kept a garden deep in to his heart;

Planted with care & showered with passion,

There a blooming rose has been given her life’s start;

Glory dyed her tiny petals down his mansion

To her royal tenderness, Sunshine bows;

Stamping immortality to her unique fragrance,

Presenting it the bless of healing wherever flows,

And whenever does, flutters the reality of existence…

“Cupids Garden” painting by J.W. Waterhouse

There He kept a garden deep in to his soul;

And there the crowned rose spreads out her leaves

In a prayer: so never knocks his gates any fall,

And heavenly guardians keep his smile, so he never grieves,

For his smile was the only Spring, the only Sunshine;

Curing what life’s daggers had carved so deep,

His touches; some kind of divine wine

Willing to set life, in innocence, put in to its last sleep…

There He kept a garden deep in to his veins;

Where passion flows the most generous streams

Along with rare purity to wash out hard destiny’s stains;

Changing the darkest nightmares in to ever-green dreams…

There He kept a garden deep in to his mind;

Where blooms a story of loneliness with love he has

There He kept a garden stealing sight to gift it to the Blind;

HE: the Garden & the Gardener & Me: the only Rose I was…