White Crow

The heart-ground is tilled,
with wounding closeness,
to be sown with moist kisses.

 

"Just this...
relaxing to the extremity of each feathers tip.
A presence of calm abiding
with awareness on each exhale."

This is meditation to me - a place at least I can only achieve through a few states at a few times in a few places - shows I have work to do yet but fun work at that. I read your words in this posting in their entirety and left wanting more. You have gentle and passionate way of expressing your self that I truly enjoy reading.

 

Leave me pulsing
in these coils of sparkling flame...

I will linger dissolving,
with a sigh and a whisper.

Waves of bliss wash over me
like magnetic clouds.

It feels like forever ago
as well as right now.

An orchids scream,
of blossoming, am I.

 

"Twelve orbits around the culdesac tree,"
spring circling grass; inter-growing roots,
she speaks before speeding off on her bicycle.

Copper heat waves simmer,
gentle winds trickle through the leaves,
before long she is ready for the park.

Upon reaching Salem Lake,
gravel parking in shaded space,
doors open anew.

Stepping into the embrace of the forest,
set around a seventeen acre lake,
onto shade fallen leaf patches
between vital light splendors.

Walking the track covered trail,
seeing bicycle, dog, human and horse prints,
Sylvianna says, "we should have brought the bicycle."

Something so mindless as strolling,
pointing out butterflies and grasshoppers,
breathing in; and sometimes you hold my hand.

Expressions flow like hand language enthusiasm,
pointing out boats on the lake and side trails,
silenced in awe and wonder until...

Change sets in, with time and distance,
the multiple ways of expressing a return,
I set a landmark and turn back; catching up.

Three horses with riders saunter by,
not even a slow gallop,
auburn coats glistening with shine.

Reaching the car we drive to the other side.
Expanse of water with wooden plank pier,
stretches beyond fishermen to woods.

Descending the hill to view the waterfall,
small streams overflowing the lake,
it is slow and gentle so we play in its dry spots.

Talk of picnics turn to lunch,
climbing the hill was slow going,
off to the market for mac-n-cheese
and potato pancakes.

 

"I'd almost rather be silent and smile,
for my words tend to bring confusion,
an already weary body from work seeks
no additional trials."

Regardless of our mystical dream-weavings, we must inevitably obey our own inertia. If we must speak, we speak. If to be silent, indeed, we are silent. And yet we can reconcile this futility with the fact that we choose to speak or remain silent. It is not one or the other way. It is both. Or it might be more proper to say: "It is one or the other way. It is both." Did I feel the dream you saw? Yes. I did. Did I reveal an oracle? Yes. I did. Did I regret that I beget so many monsters, in apparent iniquity, in the halls of antiquity?

Gravity takes us where it may - yet, we may equally Will to enjoy the ride.

 

The poet artist,
true morning star of humanity,
ushering with full blooded word,
the Gaian nectar of the Other,
as the unknown unfolds from the horizon of darkness,
the light creates an eternal shadow for the ages,
you manifest creation in this world.

Sylvanlightning, I'm new to the forums but must say your words strike me in a way that reflect someone honed and weathered in their words at one with nature, piercing to the soul. Much appreciated, and much thanks!

 

The heart-ground is tilled,
with wounding closeness,
to be sown with moist kisses.

~~*

Visible Muse

Humble me,
with a single kiss,
annihilate me
in your embrace.

We gaze,
in each others eyes,
to find Universes.
Drifting cloud-wise.

*

 

Gaeas' cackling woke me up

We spoke last night of Lemurian scrolls,
expanding gigantic like stone monoliths;
Gold-eyed natives, with baskets of fruit,
travelers of dragon currents,
like ley-line surfers.

Pondering my energetic state,
buzzing like a live-wire,
'Hey what about Valerian tea?'
was spoken.

Yawning in shutdown distraction,
her toes sought to shoot lightning bolts
as heels sparked cotton covers,
like flint.

I woke up in the fourth dimension
and discovered I had no teeth.
'No teeth, no pizza.
What am I going to do?'

'That's alright,' she spoke,
'you won't have need to poop.'
Mortified, I knew she was right.
What shall we do without these routines.

Sparkling with hexen mirth,
I stir the mental cauldron anew
and wonder of the new poems...

Spilling transmogrifications phantasmagoric
as multi-hued crystalline gateways forking
infinite.​

 

Tantric Monogamy

*

When I place my heart at your feet,
with mind sunk in oceanic awe,
your lotus opens.

Pledging to be true,
to the eternal moment;
casting my words, guileless.

My anima embraces my animus,
no codependency,
complete both within and without.

I can offer selfless love,
for all ego has burned
in the fire of kundalini.

I seek communion,
not consumption,
for you are priceless.

What is a one night fuck,
when you sacrifice your integrity,
just a common intensity.

I'll watch you grow,
from difference to diversity;
embracing you as universal.

Don't sell yourself short,
you are no less than everything,
ask equals to rise and meet you.

Will you be with me tomorrow
and the next day and the next,
or will you leave me barren and used.

*

 

as i just got done reading all of ur work that's been posted i have no words to convey how deep your words touch me......... it takes me to another place just beyond our reality........ amazing................. just amazing

 

Soleil Noir
*

Oh sweet flying fairy
how long have you been
jumping in my heart

Forever, ever after, and now
in warm darkness
you glow with your heart-light

Remembering you
loving you
dancing smiles inside

Yes, its been since
my mother sent me away
so I could find my heart

Your beautiful fragile kiss
like a butterflies wings
beating, racing and flying

Across the expanses
like universes in the center
of this sacred space

I have always felt your love
and share it and share it
and give it to anyone

Sometimes I'll allow
this silence to fill me
and I shut up

I stupidly talk over you
and miss your precious words,
I realize and sink in tears....

torn asunder at my lack,
my lack of being small
like your diamond brilliance.

Thank you
Thank you...
silence.

 

Gryphon



All I feel
are these petrified feathers,
which no longer soar the winds.

I have been gravitating
to a draining vortex, of definitions,
stagnating my imagination

I receive lightning flahses,
of ethereal remembrance....
snowy mountain crags
elevated in turquoise expanses.

My ancient wings arrive,
beyond anthropocentric colorings
which contain non-euclidian glyphs,
binding in talons, star-sapphire questions.

These riddles, of readiness,
if not answered...
result in departing,
not in devouring.

My mind seeks...
to catch hold,
of this flying body of light,
but my grasping is elusive.

 

Would you like something to drink?
*

Take away the chessboard;
silence these existential talks,
on being and meaning,
and come sit closer.

Open your beautiful oceananic-heart,
to the moment.
Let us linger on expressions
and inflections.

How do you rest into yourself.
Are you tensing or relaxed?
Are you inner paths unblocked
and flowing with life?

We are the body,
imbued with a presence,
this surging intensity,
that longs to share.

So much is conveyed
in your smiling laughter;
gazing into the depths,
of your eyes,
thoughts are stilled.

Simple comforts,
like the ability to reveal,
without words;
dissolving in an embrace.

 

Arianna, Durga-tiger-butterfly & the red dress

*

I don't want too...
be on this river of no.

Please and thank you,
yes boy,
you make me happy...

Oh, come see my room.
Make sure and come,
when I am home.

I'll show you my toys.
We can smile together.

Thank you,
for the lock and the key.
Thank you,
for the popsicles.
Thats what I loved...

I just needed a special place,
a room of my own.
Where I can close the door,
so you won't see my pictures
before I give them to you.
... naked laughter ...

I love you,
boy-friend of my mommy,
cause you treat me
like a queen
and dress me up in smiles.

Thank you for loving my daddy.

Tell my mom,
thats its ok.

I'm a strong girl
and I love real hugs.
You only got one...
but thanks for the fairies
and the little bites of pepperoni-pizza.

I'm so full
and I dreamed of sand-castles;
my lock & key.

I saw the pier,
but slept thru the magical mountains...
piloted by lemurian banana-nana-giving.
I was those black-birds...
kissing my mommy, kisses.

You need to work harder, boy,
to please me;
color with me.

Thank you for healing her,
I want her to be happy.

You are not my one dad,
but come see my room, boy.

We share;
mommy shares, I share
and the boy shares.

Andi
Ann-deee,
thank you for lovin
my mommy.
I'm so happy zzzzzz....

Thanks for Spirit & 'A'nnabelle's Wish:
Wishes Can Come True.'
Oh yes, the Hephalumps,
with the blanket three-fold.

We share my butterfly blanket.
I kissed you, boy.

Thank you for the chips,
but I don't like them
cause I'm full of
bliss & ecstacy

 

Arianna Square Pants

Child sparkles..........

 

Arianna leaves me with big bright smile... the vibe coming off that piece is incredible... those innocent lines strung here and there really lift this one up... man oh man... loved this one, sylvan!

that's just so perfect

 

Malta

The power of shamelessness,
bare-breasted natural authority,
standing at the temple entrance.

This fertile magical Lady,
not understanding the word Whore,
gazes solemnly as you arrive.

She cares not to stroke your role;
you either submit, as a child,
or are considered a blight.

Enter these spiral gates by force...
to find a host of serpents
agitated by your hyper desires.

Hunting is a scared art,
not teasingly immature adrenaline rushes,
you wash your face in our blood.

Repression is a social disease
resulting from antibiotic laws and letters.
What has our civilization cost?

She begins to dig anew.
Her skin is, not just a place for rigormortis,
but a Hypogeum for prophetic dreams.

Outside, owls roosting
in a gnarled pomegranate tree
are draped with cloaks of rusted moonlight.

 

Still, without purpose,
seeking the aimless goal,
I abide.

Tired of the flipped pages,
the editing and erasing,
I rest here within.

The nectar, I offered to myself,
has been received;
the glass is almost empty.

Why seek to refill endless rounds?
Meaningless is the continuance,
a shard of some forgotten evening.

My embrace hold the white page
and closes its eyes;
the keys begin to slowly click.

Full of memories,
of duty and dreams,
shall they grow idly grounded.

Does it matter to them,
that I remember at all,
the potential once felt resounding.

 

I gasp, embraced in symphonic
cricket weavings,
their message the blending winds.

Cool zephyrs layering
the rising swirl of unseen arms;
enrapturing swells murmur.

This pulsing darkness
feeling its way around and inside;
beneath my feet the turbine vibrates.

Our heartbeats drumming
the animal dreams phantasmagoric;
purifying rush of waterfall gales.

So close my sister hurricane
spinning her newness, like the nile,
backwards and upwards to here.

I do not await
what has already begun
to arrive.

Soon your sweet rains
will fall on the lake;
an open vision welcoming.

 

so powerful! i always feel so inspired after reading your amazing work, sylvan