Bliss

A perfect harmony of wind and sound

As I sit back and start to fly

I close my eyes and become unbound

And words come out in great supply.

A drummer’s beat now fills the air

Followed by some strings and wind

The cymbals chant on this affair

Floating by as I lay pinned.

I put my hands on the keyboard now

And type away some random keys

Would I make sense and earn my chow,

Or would I only babble and tease?

Doesn’t really matter for as long as it’s real

As one thought ends, another has begun

And whatever may the mind reveal

What matters is it’s having fun.

Another Blank Page

Another blank page

(I guess that’s where it always started)

Perhaps I need some gage

To go to the uncharted.

Linking minds with bridges

Made of words that paint and sing

Trains of thought along the ridges

Trav’ling on a delicate string.

With just the right pull

While going though the finest curve

The thoughts become powerful

Hitting head, heart, and nerve.

Now have I achieved that here,

Or had I just won your contempt?

Frankly, I don’t care my dear

‘Cause what matters is the attempt.

Evening Light

Another day done

Though for some it hasn’t yet ended

And for others it has just begun.

The setting sun’s rays

Through the clouds come bended

Announce the coming of the evening daze.

The air begins to cool

Now the winds have descended

Over people from work and school.

The night has its blessings

The day’s hurts get mended

At family and friends’ gatherings.

(Too bad I just wrote this at home, in my room with a modest window. Just imagine how differently it would have been written had I been sitting on Bora beach, watching the sunset as it culminates the day at sea and brings the tingling anticipation of a night at party.)

Word Salad

The day was a rose

Its summer musk too

Wet and wild

Like aerosols and sand spray.

Tip as a mask

With chin in a man too

Calling, falling

Simpletons and crazy loons.

* * * * *

To end the blue radish is the upside of luxury and sparking a good lizard can only make tears fall in hindsight. Puddles do not ask for why not? It is cheese, breath, and wind. It is cheese. (JS/AS-BL)

Rain

(First published in April 2009)

I was contemplating on digging through my old notes to look for some raw and unfinished poems I wrote almost twenty years ago. Then I decided that it would be too much trouble to search for a few pieces of paper among hundreds of old dusty pages, and I’m having a cold or some nasal allergy. Good thing it’s raining now and there was a brief thunderstorm earlier, filling the air with negative ions. Ah, cool, clean, crisp air. Rain is such a blessing.

I’ve always loved the rain. I especially love to go to the beach on a cool rainy day. I even have an unfinished poem from more than a decade ago that goes something like this:

As we walk I hold your hand

And I think by now you should understand

That you can never hide

Behind stolid looks

And hard-bound books

The real woman inside.

Let’s go to the beach on a rainy day

Just enjoy the breeze

And watch the trees

Dance as the winds pass their way.

The poem remains unfinished. It will probably remain unfinished. Because I’m writing a better one.

Creative Knot

Cursor blinking.
Blank white screen.
Crooked green lines
saying, “Fragment (consider revising)”.

That’s four lines now
on a mostly-blank screen
There’s that crooked green line again
saying, “Capitalization”.

And I have lost my thoughts
Staring blankly
at a blinking cursor
on a blank white screen,

watching the
crooked green line
(oh, it went red
until I corrected the spelling).

I must be going nuts
in this creative knot
I cannot even rhyme
Oh, was this supposed to be a poem in the first place?

Afternoon Light

Cool gray
Late afternoon
Dim, cloudy
Overcast sky
Hazy, dreamy
Mountains in sight.
Beach, sand
Grasses add green
Soothing, healing
Clearing the mind
Waves breaking
Mist in the wind
Touching the senses
This afternoon light. innerminds inner minds

The Sea On A Rainy Afternoon

Liquid, black

Smooth, without a crack

Waves…rolling

Like little hills patrolling.

Beads of rain drop

Break the surface and hop

Just above they hover

Like countless specks of silver. innerminds inner minds

Morning Light

As I sit here on the
Warm soft sand
The sky is still black.
The cold air carries
The sound of the waves.
Slowly the sky turns gray
Outlining embossed clouds.
Then, a streak of purple…and another; others more.
Dashing in the spaces between
They widen and brighten
As they turn lavender, red, white and green
Sifting their way through the clouds
Lighting the heavens with a parade of hues.
Orange spills and floods the entire sky
Overflowing to the sea.
Sea birds fly just above the horizon
Which has now drawn a clear line.
Finally, the magnificent glow of deep yellow breaks through
Dispersing the orange and giving birth to blue.

Every minute
Of every sunrise
Is a painting. innerminds inner minds