Fire a thousand salute for Neopoet
a ten thousand salute for our fallen heroes
though you've left suddenly like a gathering cloud
but your pen stands,
your comments fresh like the morning wine
your inspiration, your insight give births in our mind.

double a ten thousand salute for Neopoet
let the earthquake and heavens shake
poetry is our culture we live it
rivers of colours indeed, we are
in my next world bring me here
if i will die bury me here.

Ingredients:

suitcases
photo albums
quick wit
a new space that is comfortable to breathe in, raise other beings in, and nurture pets and your spirit in.
Sprinklings of humor to shake on it all when it gets to be too much. Mason jars of self-appreciation and worth to open in an emergency, if these qualities are forgotten and old patterns resurrected.

Preparation:

silence
surrounded
gentle footsteps

open
palm anxious
for maiden touch

craving
the caress
of fluffy white

rocks don't care
all stubble and stones
a difficult geometry
so if they don't fit
they are hammered
and
crushed to rubble
jammed together to make virile walls
and if stabbed with swords
care not about
torn bellies and broken necks
soaking them crimson rust
or drowned nautilus
beneath the sea

humans
have futility in common with rocks
except that everything
girds and gnaws
at their belligerent sensitivity

What delight Lot heard in his sleep,
Whose daughters drone like whales,
Who wash their thighs in depths
Within the Caves of Zoar!

Rushing trains buckle deeper
Into the labyrinth’s core;
The hot breaths from the tunnels,
The chanting iron and ore-
Of what, Lot, do you dream?

Love with Sabine stare will
Seize the concubines of desire;
Love will show the spot
Where stray men spray their liquid
For a snapshot of holy fire!

My vision of romanticism now lies
in their mercilessly longing eyes

It’s been just very recent
that I came across these two Romantics
one admiring death on the beach
and making love with a wild imagery
The other into more aggressively sexual
erotic poetry and equally anonymous too

I am a combination of these two
Perhaps a twin of each
in past generations of unknown births,
but a fact that I am equally
if not more romantic aesthetically being
perhaps certainly a bit elder to both

in a veiled world
i am light like a feather
disembodied
lightening in a bottle
everything here is alive with madness

jeering walls and chairs chatter
like wise cracking gangsters
always sporting for a fight

blood tulips cry and sing
rise and wither
and rise again
loop dancers move from rhythms of light
there are many kingdoms here

creased forehead
heightened breath
flared nostrils
quivering lips
taut muscles
gentle spasms
bitten lip
flushed face
sweat beads
thrashing limbs
nail paint
frantic pace
shaking head
disheveled hair
eyes express
almost there
can't wait....

oh dear
words blurted
while drafting
a duet

second thoughts
picture perfect
pleasure / pain

Like a night without stars
I wonder where you are

I feel the cold
All the way in my bones

Like a tree without leaves
The way my heart grieves

You never answer
Your phone, anymore

Cause it’s thunder in the tundra
And I’m feeling twice as lost
It’s trouble now on trouble
I feel like I’m losing the coin toss

Like I’m in a country far from home
And I’m all alone