3 poems of March 12, 2009

red


there is a certain practice
to the art of poetry,
to weave from nowhere
red wings of significance
to fly with these words
as if freedom was just a word
and the heart
a silent
feather




faceless


why argue with the wind?
from nowhere it howls,
a banshee weeps
remorseless
for death is a taste
of life,
a cool breeze
skimming the surface
of complexity
waves of disintegration,
having touched every cloud
and faraway globe,
amethyst star





Stairway


there is a meeting point
between heaven and earth,
the anteroom
adrift at sea,

a Clair de Lune
stairway to Paradise
shines in the chambered heart.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LXl4y6D-QI&feature=related