Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Dark Resistance

Treptower Park

The Cycle of dreams, of being, of life, fertile me.
Growth from dark resistance, it flows, it flows.
Growing Self fosters Self, fertile me.
Fertility from bright divine, it flows, it flows.

Blossoms. Ripens. The flow of beings.
I learn...
I learn modesty,
I learn patience,
I learn fairness,
I learn generosity.
I learn.

Trees in me, blossoming.


Come, down down.
There's a cat on a tree!
It leaped from the ground,
King of Hearts and free!
He wore a top hat and ate a cake.
Tick-tack, tick-tack, it was a fake!
It whispered, drink me.
Don't be late, eat that bee!
Sugar the rabbit and fly.
Take a dragon and try!



Bear life and wonders.
Fearless and generous,
shelter us.
Thy love awakened
in renewals of sacrifices.


Treptower Park
It flutters, it whispers, it flies low.
It murmurs time and solitude.
It travels the lights of stars above
and you, you are not here...

The train, loneliness in itself,
hums the future away in wheat fields of now.
Filled with waves of yellows,
I travel and whisper your soul...

The radio is loud, the table is set.
A book sings the eternal song of yesterdays.
The sun rises and I rise and you rise and time flies.
It flutters in whispers of low…



My route is to be completed.
My journey is now.
The crossing of time is stone and sand.
Ancient and new,
past to present.
I wander and wonder inside.
I grow inside.
The path to tread is a thread of time.
Stone and sand,
this journey of mine.



Life now
and memories.
The path in pain,
but I smile inside.
You walked with me.
You were my future.
Sweet longing
for tomorrows.
The past is you.
I walk and feel.
I heal now.

Merry-Go-Round of Immobility

Treptower Park

Roboheart in a Merry-Go-Round of Immobility.
Squared water, frozen in time.
Hidden shady dealings of savage tiny pieces.
Mismatching feelings,
looking on her.
Arms. Stretched. Purring.
The legged Octopus awaits.
The warrior Seahorse awaits.
Secrets mirrored, blind heart
frozen in musical repetition.
Roboheart in a Merry-Go-Round of Immobility.

A Soul-full Moment


I Love and smile you.
You Feel my nature in Blue.
I See you softly.

Dream Poem

Lizzie and London

Dream in gold, in gold of you,
fly the space of me.
And the glow and the secrets inside,
may be the touch of magic whispers.

The piano plays the soft sweet melody,
the face of you in me.
I cover you with my wings and close my eyes,
dream in gold, in gold of you.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Foul Whisperings Strange Matters

Treptower Park
Archway of crowns and words
of foul and fallen souls.
Up to the sky, black bird
of shadow. Hail! The truth is closer...
Hail! The King awaits.
Stairway of steps, down to hell...
Round and round and round and grey.
The King awaits. Hail! The truth is closer...

Imperfect, speak now!
Imperfect, prophecies of blood...

Imperfect, choke now,
no mercy, cold disdain...

The ghost of her soul is an empty vessel, lost.
Knock, knock who goes there?
Pathway of drunken words of pain...
She dies... and flies... and dares.

The beast is no more.

The High Mesa

Treptower Park
Desolate wasteland.
Ravaged vacuum.
Wind and desert.
Deserted dust dusted and buried.
Skeletons of structures and irons.
Excavate excavations of lost dreams.
Cages of lifeless bits of wreckage of days before.
Monsters deformed, trapped to run.
Vultures and fights and fights and vultures.
Winds of dust dusted and buried.
Deserted wasteland,
hungry for Life...


Poetry Quest Month

Time Still Whispers

Karuna Poems
Age 13
The movements of will shy away from my present.
It's a smile away and yet so farther away.
I try to dismiss the obvious, they try to dismiss the obvious.
A storm is closing in and blindness.
It's time, it's time... The movements of my will shy away from my future.

Age 14
The body refuses to work, I am lost and fearful.
What is to come! What?
I am tempted to run... I am tempted...
But time speaks to me, whispers to me, low and sweet.
It moves me to be patient, it murmurs a sigh of shades...
I wait...

Age 19
Time... and the body was plundered by others and breathing became a machine, I wait...
Painful flashes of past lives... and breathing has a machine... I wait...
I am there, just there, and I wait.. not breathing... and I wait...
Their wings are white and they flee.
Breathing is a machine.

Age 35
Body and soul struggle to hear life within.
My body, my soul. I struggle.
Within me life struggles to smile.
I am whole. I am whole. I am whole.
Repetition of life and time.
My future is now and I learn, I move, I breathe.
Time still whispers. I am patient.
I lost. I fear.
But I am not blind.

I Don't Know

Clocktree Park
 “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“But when did you decide this?” she asked unbelieving.
“I don’t know,” he repeated lowering his voice.
The invisible wall triggered a cold eerie silence. She would ask the question, but…
He looked at her and hoped she wouldn’t.
“Don’t forget the leg,” she added. “I don’t want a leg on my sofa.”
He snickered. It was ok after all. She didn’t get too angry about it and he had finally done it!
“Oh, and who’s he?” she asked annoyed.
He paused, almost afraid to say it.
“I… I don’t know…”

The Space Between These Trees

Treptower Park

Naked loneliness.
Longing fields...
Plunged to death.
Compassionate wisdom of shelter.
Waiting for you…

Sunday, January 29, 2012