Above the Earth’s Green

Poetry is prayer

in life’s vicissitude:

a saving grace against

manipulated or

unmanifested odds

overwhelming without

warrant or patterning


I do not write the sun, storm or sea

but re-create myself and others

in verses turn time and pluck some stars

to find my way through masked trenches

witness to my sinking into mud

that curves the memories into bias

disgrace dust, sky, wind, and all relations

window of emotions I must chain

to breathe a pure breath without passion

and discover essence of beauty

spring a move towards self harmony

perfection and peace, prelude to nude

enlightenment to carve life in full


The faces appearing

and receding in

dark of closed eyes

don’t answer why

they aren’t winged souls

fading in the sun

I emptied before it set

in the gowns of girls

stopped from dancing barefoot:

they shake autumn in the rain

mist blurs the image

water spills in shady pool


The sun couldn’t help

nor fish protect:

river has no sex

so it dried up

trapped in its own banks


This chilly night

she folds her arms and legs

resting her head

upon the knees and sits

as an island


Ghosts rise to mate

in moonlight tear the tombs

frighten with fingers

rhino horns rock the centre

granite sensation



spring from night

whispering darkness

fog the streetlight

and I walk


against wind

unseen and unheard


into dreams

create circles

of longings

or spin wheels

of miracles

with blind faith

drug genes and

drone out psalms

in void


I know a fire burns

the thumb-sized flame

beyond the heart

restlessly I seek

light in shadow

forget the sun

I feel its heat

and see the light

by light itself


Seeking fire in the

furnace of delight I fail

to weld my fragments

into one lasting love:

I act delusive orgasm

to get out of myself

tear dreams in holes

live bit by bit, in pieces

restive as ever


The games I couldn’t play

the adversaries I made

unliving the sun

in field undoing

the ense air with spray

prove I’m obsolete

in a land of scams

God seems irrelevant and

altruism is preposterous

kind of naivety

or doubletalk they think right

poets are good but foolish


I’m dying to connect

myself to your navel love

and feel your heart beat

inside your breast space

cared by blood at your altar

sip life in your flame


You were so near yet

I couldn’t reach your body:

half-risen sun

I couldn’t rise to embrace

half-met eyes

half-said prayer


As I repose

in the wrinkles

of her face

I feel her crimson

glow in my eyes

her holy scent

grows inside

a sea of peace


in the mind


The eruptions and scars remind

how weak we are

fighting ourselves we fight others

disrupt balance

O mother, I fear diseases

born from within


Again the stone-cool city

frightens the oval existence

downward in black moment

swamps of labour will vanish

in fume I see no prayers:

who can hope to dial new angels

when most have turned Cubist cock

rivaling small spooks underground

tempting vulgar feats with awnings?


The darkening clouds

and shapes of jungle animals

won’t disappear with rains

but stay in my eyes

with icy nights waving tails

in dreams or blazing time

the whimpering sun

with diamond tides won’t burn the sea

nor obscure miracles

round evening when tired

of sand trapped between toes

I prick the vacuum in soul

I can see through strange tales

winds spin across chessboard

whether playing or watching:

myths of victory weigh heavy

it’s better I keep quiet

lest the earth mourn poet’s truth


I don’t understand

why dogs defecate at our

gate, lawn and backyard

I don’t understand

their gossip denouncing me

in corner meetings

it’s no use throwing

stones or chasing them away

they love smell of earth

the bitches’ bottom

in season sexcites, they can’t

control their passion

they are uneasy

in our presence but leave filth

for others to clean

let’s ignore them

they’re dogs and detractors

defecating, barking

at the gate, backyard

street corners they have it off

to ease their tension


In the name of faith

and God

politics fuels bigotry

strips the prophets

corrupts clarity

reasoning ceases

when mind purveys prejudice: cake carts disposable

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