I want you

Dirty In colors, smeared all over your face Colors dusted on your clothes I want you shaking off swamp waters And dripping holy sweat I want to line your face From your eyes to your ears In black kohl I wanna put you where you belong On a pedestal chair overlooking Ripped scraps and banana

Holy mornings

Holy mornings, sunlight, brisk air, and your lips Here, there, everywhere

That marbled pathway

Who are we but bright flames that wane? Flesh alive and so here now, but can step away from these frames Far away the evening fragrance lingers Seeping into deeper woods Feeling is like morning weather With windchimes and little bells Rolling misty haze, kissing our feets Atop the marbled pathway Of a holy treasure

Yin Yang

Maybe it’s time, I don’t know, it happens every late morning And once in a while before bed… This feeling of total control over my life It’s like magic, with tricky hands I can see where the ball strikes next And wins. It’s like that in your harried presence It’s your commanding glare Looking at

Red planet

Here I am, in the red planet. The atmosphere here stings my skin as I sit alone in this arid dust bowl. The sky’s red and it’s making my eyes bleed. My crimped hair’s brittle and it obscures my vision. My throat’s dry and I squirm on the rocky ground in dreams of quenching thirst.

Sun god

Sometimes everything becomes so difficult, and you feel weak and lonely. But the sun has a marvelous way of shining on you, smiling zenfully at you, holding your hand, and picking you up.

Ceiling corners

Lying in bed Smoking hookah with Rumi Staring at the ceiling With walls made of shadows. The scent of agarwood in the air coming from the kitchen; Drafty rose and all things eastern and holy My skin oozes with warm toned oil A tasty blend of nature, dirt, rain in the city, Lotus, lily, ice