A Woman’s Blue

Writings of Aakriti Kuntal

Inside the turbid head of the blue lake
a blue sky, a blue light, a blue mouth,
blue eyes, blue skin, skin in motion,
skin in water

Skin is sound, skin is concentric,
large wide gallops occur like age,
like music
the stagnant boil of winter
as she preserves her breath
Carefully weeding out
life from life
Splitting breath from breath
Such is the decoration of all time

I walk
above water
Between latent nights and
cold potato evenings
I walk on water
Gaze at a perforated universe
wrestling for vacuum inside tunnels
of bread-like feet

I walk
over water
Build an arc
with my arms of falling light
Skin is a lengthy delusion
as it reflects onto my face
The mockery of all light
Skin is a lengthy delusion
as it dances above my lip
‘Blue, blue, it’s a woman’s blue’
I say
as the lake sings beneath…

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like an animal

As the fog of dream falls

I feel you.

The touch of your skin

calls to the savage in me,

ignites a raging flame.

Here we are still lovers

where I devour you

with the weak bites  of

a starving animal,

never completely consuming



image from Art Express…Steve Hanks Art.

swept away

I steer my boat of memories
upstream beneath the lacy moss of
cedar trees where a  nightingale drapes
his songs like a spray of flowers over
whispered water.
Beyond the shallows stands a wooden bridge
where we cast our secrets to the lazy river.
Each goldenrod  that lines the banks bear witness
to  the  summer kiss and  breathless bodies
swept away on a  crumple of faded   serape.
How sweet were those days,  so blue were your eyes,
how deep is the longing for those star strung nights?



Image result for painting of row boat under cedars in a small lake



the breathing air

I listen  expectantly as

your thoughts wing an

incandescent flight of adventure

to the flicker of my heart.

My own  disassembles like  folds of

origami where  our names are sketched

in indigo.

Our words are swords of rice paper

honed with tenderness and I will listen

until the end for we are  more than an

epoch of bones but the summer sunset

in your colors.

Your blood pulses through my veins,

the breathing air where we make love

as though we are the only lovers,

as gentle or fierce as the press of your

thighs on mine.







the life cycle of a rose

Erect on a tall stalk

wrapped in veiny leaves

heavy with the burden

of viscous dew

for the  love of light her

corolla lifts upright

a broad faced still life

anchored to the earth

she tracks the sun blindly

through the violet sky

At dusk she combs the air

with  sweetness

retreating  at twilight into

pearly pools of the moon.




Photograph by Heartafire

Barista Favorite: apple woman/Holly of House of Heart

I am so delighted to have my poem “apple woman” chosen as Barista Favorite at Go Dog Go Cafe ( https://godoggocafe.com/ ) . So honored, I want to thank Eric Syrdal of “My Sword and Shield”, superb writer and poet for placing this poem in  nomination. Thank you dear Eric , you are amazing.

Go Dog Go Café

The Baristas have chosen their favorite piece of writing from the February 22nd Pay It Forward Thursday at the Go Dog Go Cafe.  We are honored to share the Barista Favorite with the GDG community, the poem apple woman by Holly of House of Heart.  We highly encourage you to go read more of Holly’s writing.

A hummingbird is  etched

at the nape of my neck

below a storm of hair.

She hovers like a tiny moon

sipping cruets of  honeysuckle.

My mind is  a cutlass of emotion,

a chisel of shame or the begging

tongue of a starving feral.

Pink berries perch on snowy slopes,

deeper,  harvests of  Robin’s eggs.

I want to keep them  safe from the

graze of  cold teeth passing  through

a   sky blue dress.

My apple heart  harbors man

whose anger is a ligature winding.

It’s beat is a warm river  of release

or a…

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because I love you

I know I love you

because when I think

of you my body becomes

a  cornucopia of  brilliant colors

overflowing gardens of wild abandon

toppling unrestrained over

sun drenched walls where

I am so afraid to fall.

My tender petals powerless to

hold you back

forfeit their privilege,

immerse in the waves of your eyes

that nourish  fragile roots

waiting patiently for rain.



“Purple Rain” by Nancy Medina




Poetry by Eric Syrdal of My Sword and Shield, contributing writer for whisper and the roar

Whisper and the Roar

shildmaiden Sigrun by RinRin Daishi

Her eyes are painted
with porcelain bravery
bravado and battlefield-hardened
she wields her weapons
sarcastic razor-edged wit
impenetrable oaken confidence
guarding her breast
all the ambition forged
within iron and steel
dark amber flame, her hair
across her shoulders
a regal mane
unstirred by the winds of war
like so many before her
behind this buttressed bulwark
lies a warrior heart
broken and battle-weary
enough of scars and sacrifice
enough of wounds and wanting
rain-soaked and shell-shocked
she wanders
seeking the broken path home

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of gods and monsters

The clouds above  are soft and the red earth sighs with  the far off chant of  natives,  pure and natural.  Now we are a hard place of  frozen sidewalks and rails of  trains that rush on like flocks of panicked geese. Their cold  box cars  carry the forgotten  to Portland and unknown destinations where men in fine suits, their eyes lit with cruelty,  sit behind vintage desks.  We  have forgotten  the sweet breeze of a summer downpour,  the call of a  whippoorwill,  everything beautiful that begs us to look up.







Her Old Straw Hat

Maxima has published a beautiful book of poetry and prose. I highly recommend it.


New book !

Written: © Maxima

In this illuminating repertoire of reflective poetry, Stjepan Maksimovic transports us to a shimmering light of emotions with poems rich with insight and powerful resonance. We travel through reality and into phantasm’s of love’s joy, disillusionment, and longing. Deeply personal, his verses are thoughtful and profound, transporting us though the virtual and real. Penned in his unique free style he encourages us to ponder more deeply life’s perplexities. An avid reader of Stefan’s work, I find this book a masterful creation by a master poet. If you are excited about delving deeper into the spiritual meaning of life and love you will find this book as captivating as I have.

Holly Rene Hunter

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