Rendering delight
April 29, 2020
Translation
Of movement in you
Lost in space
I retrace
Your body’s forgotten hue
The ink and the blue
When sun sets
I remember you
The sweet touch
Of your face
From a spent reality
In an unseen place
In eclipse
I reinvent you
Through the sight
In the night
When your features blurred in light
Rendering delight
Reading of the poem:
I’ll be seeing you – Billie Holiday
Fire beneath embers
1 April 2020
He shows me
The means to an end
Leitmotiv
To renew
Yet my bosom is now spent
From pains underwent
I hold him
In memories’ space
Brittle lace
Where his face
Redesigns the melodies
That put heart at ease
We travel
Through the light that shines
Within heart
Throughout mind
We will revel when we find
Fire beneath embers
Reading of the poem:
Max Richter – She remembers
In shape of our hearts
27 March 2020
Remember
The chirping robin?
When it came
From within
Heartbeats paired with rising spring
Composed song to sing
The dewdrops
Parallel to lash
Bated breath
Composure
Of beating lungs exposure
Strength of heart measure
Drawn insight
Stealth within the light
The darkness
Now vivid
Shining lighthouse all imparts
In shape of our hearts
Reading of the poem:
A Scene Of La Seine – Yuhki Kuramoto
Lake Louise II – Yuhki Kuramoto
Shape of Love – Yuhki Kuramoto
The Shaman tales 5: Uncovering the shamanic gift
25 March 2020
She had always known she was a white witch, but it was only recently that she had found out that she was also a shaman. The knowledge had come to her after a particularly striking episode when she had been dancing to trance music and had experienced a shamanic journey into another world. She never consumed drugs so knew that there had to be truth to that journey. It was a world where spirits walked in fumes with nothing separating them from other human beings. She had looked around her in the night club and nobody else seemed to be noticing the spirits yet all of them were dancing to the same music she was dancing to.
She looked around her fascinated. The stroboscopic lights cast around filled the fumes of the spirits with various lights making them look like rainbows disintegrating on the dance floor. She wondered what the spirits were doing in the night club. Were they not meant to be somewhere more peaceful, she thought? One spirit seemed to realize that she was looking right at it and not through it and came up close to her. She was not sure she felt comfortable enough this close to it and raised a hand. It went right through the spirit who laughed. It was not a wicked laugh, just a friendly amused one. She laughed back. They were not as terrible as many made them to be. They only wanted to be part of this world just like us, she thought.
That was all before she discovered the extent of the Shamanic gift. How it could allow her to summon either the raven’s rains or the fires of the phoenix. That was before she discovered that the combination of the witch capacities and the shamanic gift could help mold consciousness itself
Cyberion – Strange Signals
He moved with giant strides
16 March 2020
He thought that love was a battle
One to put as task
The chains and tools that he’d rattle
In the cage she’d bask
Envigored by resolution
He moved with giant strides
Yet it was the wrong solution
Strong the soul she rides
She beckoned to him taught him peace
Of leaves that mind did rake
Offered soul and heart to appease
The lady of the lake
Reading of the poem:
Agnes Obel – The Curse (Berlin Live Session)
Talking birds
15 March 2020
Springtime dew
Drops on daffodils
Grass that sprouts
All about
My mind running wild with bees
Larks that morning frees
Summer breeze
Seeping through winter
Blinded herds
Haughty nerds
Of the meanings that become
Lost messages hummed
Symphonies
Stretching in the sun
Talking birds
Swirling words
Of the moments that I sum
With my heart’s fingers
Reading of the poem :
Max Richter – Dream 3 (in the midst of my life)
The invisible thread
9 March 2020
She smiled at him. He was getting more interesting by the day. She always knew that her interest in men was more of the sapiosexual kind but had not realized until this day how much this was true. It was not that he was not handsome, far from that. In fact, she would classify him quite high on the handsome scale although his features might not be the classical handsome face. Yet it was not that which attracted her. What appealed to her most was the fact that he knew so much about a variety of matters and spoke like her several languages, some of which she did not speak herself.
He sensed her keener interest and was visibly flattered. He moved closer to her and she nudged towards him, her left flank now touching his right flank. She could feel the heat seep towards her from under his shirt. She felt all warm and cosy and it gave her a fuzzy feeling. He looked intently at her. Her eyes shone with that particular sheen which had captivated him right from the start. Unlike his green and gold speckled eyes, her eyes bore a dark liquid intensity that he had rarely seen in the eyes of the girls he had flirted with before.
This one was going to be trouble for his heart if she did not respond to his wishes in the way he wanted. He knew she wanted and celebrated her freedom. Would they be able to keep this feeling despite the both of them being so fiercely independent, he wondered? Yet he knew that every time he was away from her it was like something within him was missing. He simply had to come back to her or her to him, he was not sure which one of them wandered back to the other. Like drunken sailors they seemed to rift apart and then stumble into each other again.
It was as if an invisible thread with a spring-like quality was holding them and brought them back to each other when they wandered away too far. He had heard a saying once that people who were meant to meet were tied by an invisible thread. If the saying was true, then he and she were apparently glued together with several servings of invisible thread. He smiled to himself. He liked the idea of being strung up as long as it was with her…
Love – B-Tribe
Clarity of You
21 July 2016
Roaming mind
Connecting the dots
Infinite
Treasured lines
Projections of our tall selves
Erected the spines
Everywhere
Remnants of your prints
Stilted rhymes
Suffocate
Essence of your purity
Twined complexity
You are here
Within every breath
Like promise
Of white air
The shadows of inner light
Draw upon your sight
Withered Hearts
Replenished with Love
The white shrouds
Skies and clouds
The consistence of morrows
Alight in the Soul
People fade
Like candles in wind
Noise shadows
To rescind
Within the tunes of your song
Ode to sing along
Through the space
Folding unfolding
Twisting time
Haunting mime
Replicating twin suns sparks
Clarity of You
Reading of the poem:
Sinking inside yourself – Hammock
Cold Front – Hammock
One Another – Hammock
Now that the trail has gone cold
15 November 2015
.
In the beginning
Time washed me on empty shores
Shell of air that hung
.
She breathed me Fire
Mother wove me from her womb
Golden thread for stars
.
She covered me clay
Rising tides her Oceans spent
Nights on my dark hair
.
. .
She swelled me tremors
Beating Heart she raised me high
Tidal waves my blood
.
.
She kneaded me bread
The black and the white she joined
Every mouth to feed
.
I wake in her ice
Now that the trail has gone cold
Heart follows her scent
.
Only my Mother
Scent of Jasmine knew her feet
Ambrosian Life
.
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