Harmony

What's in that harmony?

That magical vibrating sound?

Why does it radiate throughout the room like glow from a candle?

For what reason does it make us light up like candles?

It's my ear's candy, as my eyes are sweeten by harmony's smiling faces.

Like blossoming 

Does it come from our mouths?

Or our hearts?

Clean Blade

The last morsel of dessert was left on your plate.
And the air was laced with salacious gossip.
The one with the umber hair turned unsuspectingly.
Your eyes met, she mouthed a vague message.
You looked straight at me.

Before you got up from your velvet seat, you threw your flaxen hair
over your right shoulder, and that vermilion gown started to approach me.
You came bearing compliments galore; the strings started to play your favorite song,
but your concentration on me never broke.

Ankles crossed, lips upturned, and hands relaxed, you put me in a head lock, wrinkling my tuxedo, my pride.
But I won't be Anne Boleyn.
No, you won't creep into my bed tonight with a blood lust.
All these riches and luxuries I have gathered won't stop you.
Just remember.
At the end of the song, we both have blades, and mine is clean.

Precious Flame

She was tall and lean and strong and smooth.
And her flame burned brighter than the sun.
But she was unhappy.
Too proud.
Not proud enough.

It was not the that the wax dried up,
nor the time the wind blew through
but the time when she gave up.

And that precious flame.


Was out.

Answers

It's a few days since you first occurred to me.
But it feels like an era.
Your eyes, crackling with chastity, lit up my heart and sped up my breath.
And when you look at me, my heart swells with euphoria.

It was a calm summers night.
I was standing alone on the beach, peering over the water kissed by moonlight.
My toes, bare, caressed each other through the
sand,
and a placid lapping of sea foam against my feet washed away my impurities.
I thought I saw a line in the sand.
Even under the water, this line was smoothly drawn, thick and graceful.
Then it hit me;
I saw your immaculate face in the sand, and it stole my breath.

The seas rumbled from their belly, and in a sudden, a speeding jet black wave of passion, rage, enamored obsession, inadequacy, lust, greed, rapture, and devotion hit me square in the face.
And I fell on my face.
For you.

When I woke up, you were there.
But you were innocent, naive, vulnerable to my fantastic fiery fervor.
And we looked each other in the eye, and smiled.
All was sweet infatuation.
All was blissful.

But when I woke
the sun had
dried the
wave
that was
left.
You were gone.
We were gone.

What did we leave behind?
A future?
Love?

Was there anything to begin with?

If only I had kissed you.
If only you wanted to kiss me.

Have you moved on?
Or were you never interested in the first place?

One day I'll go back at night.
To that serene sea.
My toes will touch the sand.
The foam will lap at my feet.
And I'll see you in the water, waiting for me.

For it seems to me, that you forgot all about me.

If so, why not start over?
My dear, my love.
Let us love, but rarely together.
And never in the light.

Africa

Expanse of blue sky

Stampede of creatures fill plain

Spirit, Simple, Life.

Ground teeming with vibes

Searing bright light chisels smiles 

United as one.

Horizon in view

Break of dawn pierces the sky

This is Africa.

This One's For You

Now it's been some skies since I took your number.
The pen smudged a little on that scratch slip.
If not for that, where would I be.

You know the murky waters of my soul, my secrets, my sins.
You know how I've hurt others. You know who has hurt me.
Yet you still come bounding down the hall, yelling my name every morning.

I've showed you my biggest box, and you delighted at the contents.
You've set the bar much too high.
My voice lights up your face like a candle in the night.
Your voice ignites my soul and shoots me up to space.

Your Beatles shirts, our drunken sessions, and those radiant, brighter than light smiles that we give each other.
I could hug you for days; we would laugh for days, smile for years after.
Thinking of you gets me out of bed every morning, and makes me wish for hasty rest to see you the next day.
Gosh, I hope you feel the same.
Enamored with you, not I.  I'm bedazzled by you.

You know what I love, what I hate.
And you certainly know this, but just to remind you, my dear.
I

Love

You.

And the Clock Kept Ticking

There once was a clock of many colors.
Blue danced with green, fought with red, and kissed yellow.
Purple serenaded aquamarine, and dove with iridescent crimson.
Her hands spun and the hues danced.

It had been by her side all her life, that clock.
Reminding her of time past and the future's descending length.
She got very sick, and the seasons went from spring budding pansies to fall crunching leaves.
But she was still sick, and the clock kept ticking.

With no regard, the clock turned the girl into a woman. But she was sick.
Very sick.
It made her scream and rant and cry and bleed, but the clock continued her rhythmic ticking, and the sickness persisted.
Her mom cried, begged, and pleaded.
"No," said the illness, "It is not I that needs to change."
The mom built up her courage, her savvy, her shrewdness into a towering bridge, large enough to stifle any sickness. But she was knocked down not by Hate, but by hate wearing Love's mask.

The girl came inside, and she got even more sick.
The clock kept on ticking.

Well, its been a long time gone, and Hate's mask is slowly being pealed from his face.
Well, its been a long time gone since the mom has cried.
But the girl is still sick.
She was halfway over the hill, but still a girl.

Maybe she'll be a girl forever, sick forever.
Maybe the mom will stop and cry.
Maybe they won't.

But the blue, green, purple, and red will dance into eternity; the canvas of time.