Elephant god somewhere

A Hindu god, an elephant head
          Sacred symbols, from a thousand year ago
Clothed in time’s fine delicacies
          Beige white silk and golden embroidery
Draped over her ivory beige smooth
          kind skin
Pretty face maiden, like my mom
          A crown of flowers on her head

His admiration of me is far away
          And I get to learn about
Big picture problems
In the inner circle

Places made of fine earth, tan and beige
          Spinning earth, below the mountains and on the valley
There’s a brick wall and people who live in tiny rooms that I enjoy watching
          But it gets turned into high rails for a speedy subway systems
That engines through brick gaps and bumps, and I wonder if it’ll throw me out into the ocean while it titters around
          Hindu god with the head of an elephant
Ancient beliefs upheld so dear
          I dreamt about a god…

Advertisements

Stark vision

You have a way of surprising me. Your show-stopping eyes… I swear that it’s still; it’s a painting. You’re a piece of some marvelous artwork. When I least expect it, you walk into the room and just glow
heaven’s pure white light.
The life in your face
The sun’s tender kisses on your skin. I didn’t know you could almost be my tone.
Who are you, who are we?
You have an uncanny ability
To leave me breathless.
That stark white collar against the back of your darkened neck. An unexpected bolt of lightning electrifies my heart. You look back for a split second, and stagger at my golden hue. I’m glad I could do it to you. Glad you could see it too. I always thought I could outshine you, but you out-did me boy. I’m stupefied. With those shimmering stubbles framed around your nape,
(Can I touch it?)
That look of utter demand you carry. Do you want me to say something?
You win
Standing before me. Made of sleek, smoking ice
Making me burn
Melting
Dancing, at your feet.

Sweet, sweet days

Golden haze

Pink and blue evening,
inside, a champagne spritzing of simmering gold.
Your lips, soft and mellow, smiling at my reflection from the glass.
My eyes, kaleidoscope with your vision
moving in a direction, inching closer to your face.
Blinds, over the window
hold back the dusk light dying to crack in
while the music sings, and the iris of your eyes dance to a tune
from within.
The lyric scalds and scuffs,
and your smile; smiles again in a repetition that only makes you so much more distant
in this shimmering haze of golden dust.
My dress, black, for you
fingers want
to touch you
lips painted in pink, laughing
leaves a trace on the glass
while the world waltzes around its golden rim
immersed in placid
blinking reflections
dazzling hallucinations,
fizzing sweet
sensations.

Ocean of Marigolds

She was born amidst an ocean of marigolds, unravelling herself within the golden globe