Life Stream

stream

Moki

 

Life Stream

~

Where do you begin in the stream of life?

It feels forever is lost inside the beauty

of impregnated words I find

between rhymes that you easily invoke-

May I love you without knowing your face

or the tone of your skin, without ever being mine?

I can love with the heat of a sun setting passion aflame

or the flapping of wings of the Adonis blue,

I can love you in my clumsiness or my grace

with every exhale casting spells in your name

and every gesture reserved just for you

through the times where you always begin

by the endless words in a stream of your life-

H.O


“I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger for life that gnaws in us all.”

― Richard Wright,

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My Eyes

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My Eyes

~

“They are sad”- my mother said about my eyes

then kissed them both with tender care

and told me “life is never sadness”

but later found that in her kindness

she failed to see how through my years

from all the pain could not be spared.

~

“They are naughty” – my lover said about my eyes

and kissed them both lost in desire

then told me “life is full of pleasure

with every moment to hold and treasure”

 cradling my body between her thighs

my lover taught me about lust and fire.

~

“They are fierce” – my friend said about my eyes

and touched them softly with great affection

then told me “life is there for taking

if you are a winner into the making”

but later found that makes no sense

when life is nothing without direction.

~

“They are old” – I told myself about my eyes

the mirror spoke of passing times

my mother’s words of love and sadness

a distant memory lost in the madness

of every day, and all I see with these old eyes

are long gone dreams within the rhymes-

H.O

Caged

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Caged

~

In caged freedom I wish to touch above the sky

but arms while strong will not suffice

and didn’t teach my wings to fly-

A cage of gold becomes the life I ever known

and seems so far as ever flown

was in my dreams,

but real they seemed

with strongest wings I flew so far

that when I reached to touch the sky,

I touched a star-

H.O

“Reach high, for stars lie hidden in your soul. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal.”

– Pamela Vaull Starr

Love More, Worry Less

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Love More, Worry Less

~

Our worries consuming lives

intermissions of love in our daily play,

not enough love, too much worry,

too late at times to say sorry-

Sorry I wasted my life lost in lies

of being, on my way lost.

Sorry I let you go way back

when I ran stray.

Sorry I didn’t know the cost

of loving and letting go.

Sorry for years gone

past my door.

But there is no right or wrong

sorry does not mean we owe

a life of perdition,

so worry less and love more-

H.O

Dancing in the Rain

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Dancing in the Rain

~

What awaits such delights choosing well

among choices we have to dispel,

choosing life for what it is, not what could,

deep inside must we learn it is good

and enjoy every taste, every smell-

~

Bucket lists won’t exist if we are done

as we erase or we take, then add some

until hearts learn to beat every morning

and not wasting a gift with conforming

with a little of something or just none.

~

So I say let’s forget all the misery and pain

and choose life as the goal to attain,

why must wait for the storm just to pass

when we can all the happiness have

if we learn how to dance in the rain.

H.O

Seeker

spiritula-path

Seeker

~

Time frozen, a knock on my door,

a stranger weary and weak,

asking, “have you ever seen a life

like the one I had before? Way before

my need to search, my need to have,

back then my life unique”

-he softly said showing the path,

“with pain and anguish on this path I strived”

-repeated twice and looked away.

“I know, I know for scars I wear”

I quickly added, “it’s so unfair”

The stranger paused “I’ll find my way”

-he sadly said “and search some more”.

H.O

Musa

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“Musa”

~

Words exhausted cease to exist

twenty six in shapes to choose

if my tongue pronounce insist

then I need to check my muse.

What is there for me to write

when no love is there to see

where no one to kiss in spite

of my search from land to sea.

I could write about temptation

and the swing of silk like hips

or just search my imagination

for the perfect pair of lips.

Only words not hard to find

if twenty seven in my past

for a life so much entwined

in the words my passion cast.

H.O