net of dreams

I dreamed you beside me

in a small fishing village,

our bare feet dangling

from an ancient  wall.

Stone  soldiers, eternally

gaurding   held back the

swell of the rushing sea.

By the  beacon of a distant

lighthouse sea birds flew over

only to vanish beneath its

woeful beam.

A shell at my ear  I held you,

gathered  you in silk arms of netting.

Losing  my grip you slipped away,

freed from the catch of dreams.

sea side

 

 

when you go

When you leave I become

the sea gull begging salt from

from the briny air.

My veins are a winding tunnel

Of deep purple sea.

I channel you in the night owl’s

perpetual call  that  awakens the

Subconscious to the feel of

your phantom hand at the angle of my
hips.

At dawn your shirt hangs from a

Closet door in the buttery sunlight

and I become so small I could slip

inside the lining of your chest

sheltered by your warm skin where I

long to be.

 

 

art by Anuraag

 

 

Chartreux

Your eyes are Himalayan  blue,

they mutate from sparkling stars to the silver

of a cold planet.

With indifference you defeat me

until I am nothing more than an empty

vessel sailed  away to write love letters

on the wings  of  distant angels.

When your  nights are long

you may find me in the brush of a

homeless Chartreux winding about your

feet or in the sunflower eyes  of a girl

passing by.

 

Vincent Van Gogh

 

 

I steer my boat
upstream beneath the lacy moss of
cedar trees where a  nightingale drapes
his song,  a spray of flowers over
whispering waters.
Beyond the shallow a wooden bridge
where we cast our secrets to the river.
Goldenrod along the bank bears witness
to  a  summer kiss and  breathless lovers
on a crumpled serape.
So blue were your eyes,
how deep the longing for those star lit nights.

 

Vanity, 1897 - Giovanni Segantini

 

 

the dark waters of sleep

I am  a river

entering  another river

plunging naked into the

depths of your mind.

Erotic  dreams emerge

from the dark waters of sleep.

Perhaps you are not a river

but a flowing dimension of my desire.

Let me wrap  you in  wings of angels

bind you in   garlands of longing,

etch my name in to your bones.

My ears shall be  your confessional,

my body your comforter

and there is no sin grave enough.