White Crow

Boa of plumes,
feathered serpent of ivory white,
pouring snowflakes like downy raindrops.

Kisses like sandalwood,
merging without touching,
quavering reception of softness.

Yes, my energy is back.
I'm not surprised that you knew;
rippling like star-quakes.

Oh my, these fractal responsibilities,
day-tripping the cloud-lit horizon,
awaiting the merging of universes.

Our unity is undeniable,
regardless of saying goodnight...
or goodbye.

You know how your pulsing emissions
touch these sacred moments,
releasing me from the meantime.

Come my Lady,
embrace the Now with me,
again; forever new.

The blue moon periods,
are but a gathering,
a centering within divinity.

Let the comforter drape,
over us like shelter,
as winter slithers into spring.

 

Sensual Breakfast


Awakening to silver glows,
mist-lit like a hundred moons,
swirling vapors hug each tree.

Aviary echoing of birdsong
bathes cavernous ear-tunnels;
tones of a harmonious multitude.

Were are unbounded senses,
expansively filling landscapes,
unfurled beyond the concept of self.

This Self of us,
interconnected and immanent,
ripples out beyond a finite body.

All One, un-lonely, breathing;
pulsing together our tones;
creating a rich and melodic current.

 

Two beautiful pieces, sylvan... your writing is so fresh, as in it feels like it's written while it's happening... I liked the second a little more, it pulls a few more vivid images... thanks for sharing these

 

My pleasure, thank you for responding. Yes, just wrote these yesterday...
a wonderful feeling to just let what is seen and felt flow into poetry.
Glad you enjoyed them.

 

You've got a wealth of work here, I'm going to need to appreciate. Jumping around I see you are very skilled at the craft but more importantly write from your spirit, for the advancement of your spirit and also the advancement of our spirit. Very quote so far:
"Oh my, these fractal responsibilities,
day-tripping the cloud-lit horizon,
awaiting the merging of universes."
Brilliant, I'm off to ponder my fractal responsibilities, I'll give your library here the time it deserves at a later date. I'm sure it'll keep growing so I best catch up.

Peace and Praise

 

Thank you for sharing your love,
Bright Blessings ~~*

 

Goddess on a work break


The softness of my jacket cushions,
beneath your knees,
as your calves rest on my back;
toes feeling warm clothing,
as they clench and release.

Your heady aroma swirls about me,
pulling me like magnetic musk,
coaxing me to surrender to the moisture,
already slowly forming in slick droplets,
on your swelling lips.

*Presses calves harder into your back,
as I lower into the beautiful harmony
of your tongue and my lips;
they sing together of the love,
that we share....*

Lingering, entranced by warmth
emanating from your genitals.
I close my eyes thinking of how
to describe the nectar of your secretions.

Then, with dissolved mind,
begin kissing your thighs and pelvic mound;
wanting to start on the perimeter,
so as to awaken ecstatic responses.

Painting, your skin with my tongue,
I begin to trace poetic pictures,
of indescribable feelings,
in the language of bliss and honoring.

Your honeyed moisture envelopes me,
as I drown with gratitude in your fullness,
kissing each recess with nurturing passion...
until your hands reach down for my hair.

*Pressing your head into me,
eyes closed and head thrown back,
I too, dissolve into the poetic offerings.
Slowly rising, out of this human condition,
souls exit to become one another.*

 

Blanket of teal
*

What child is this,
cloaked in gentle blue bliss,
amidst possible dreams
half uncovered and still.

A breath, so soft,
petals in silver waves
across the moonlit way,
as inconvenience mummers lowly.

Rage across hindsight years,
ravages of a painful birth,
offers wake to aborted futures...
yet still there may be a way.

Unexpected as abated illness,
while fevered moments loom large,
gives way to radiant vibrancy.
Who is to know of tomorrow.

One can but hope,
living with breast aflame,
and sing new lullabies
to paint vacant spaces.

 

A visitor
*

Hip hoppity, crispy night air,
with a slinky square slithering
up to the bird-bath basin.

Grizzled angularity,
of possumness bristling,
lapping languid.

Oblique i, the frozen immediacy,
stare left-eyed in cocked chinlikeness;
Shambling moonlight coats matted.

Breathless moment,
merging like water,
before the neighbors disturb us.

Scurrying as instinct predilection,
back into the bushes,
separating city and perimeter.

 

Sphere of Love
*

We are sovereign beings.

Each of us invites in fears, demons & misfortunes,
as well as manifesting love, angels & abundance.

Not even dualistic, this yes or no is generally maybe,
like a thousand shades of grey;
brighter still, a million hues of color.

Do we still get stuck,
in feeling we are one pole or the other,
when there are a billion points
on the surface of a sphere.

Visualize your bliss,
spend each second as if it were your last,
love in the moment as if you were giving everything
and co-create with divine equals,
otherwise known as true friends.

 

*

 

I really like your poem sylvan. It is really nice. I guess you just have to not let the demons in, and just radiate goodness and love. I totally agree with the message in your words. When you say manafest love and angels I feel a sense of union with your soul.

 

to a friend
who said grey
is not a colour:
a hug, you sorry
sorry bastard!

 

Response of continuance


Grey wishes of grateful humanity,
the union of manifold souls,
harmonizing in a spiral of sound...

Ascending chorus of creative interweaving,
yes my friend we are all stars;
as for being a master...

in equality our signature is
simple and unique,
an energetic seal.

 

Fleeting


Part of the beauty
of a flower,
is that it fades.

A breathtaking view,
from a mountaintop,
lies in its remoteness.

Subtle Spring breezes,
will not remain in Summer;
everything spirals, anew.

The power of a moment
is found in unique presence;
what is... will not be found again.

 

::happy sigh::

 

Indeed.

 

Lovely thoughts in this, worded elegantly. I've been in a similar zone as of late, so this one was especially enjoyed!

 

Bolts of Thunder strike the ground, ​

As fleeting as their booming sound.​

Yet for miles about are they heard;​

Transmute the ash into the Word.​

Life is so beautifully, incomprehensibly absurd. ​

​

*​

 

Thank you all