Imaginary garden with real toads, Poetry

interval

it’s okay to count
1 after another
by and by 1 drifts

new moments move in
rushing past hardly a sound
sight shifts and snores

mirrors wanting to speak
reflecting the righteous
seasoned and salty the sinner

…i’m losing count

imaginary garden with real toads. a place where poets go

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Poetry, with real toads

translated


in the garden with real frogs
fireblossom friday: i put a spell on u

ease right in
its no surprise

died a hundred times
revived all over again

disinterested desiderata
the yearning survives

sweet sauce thirst
hidden in exigency

distraught unzipped
deceased dust delivery

acquiesce pancake breakfast
assembled inside of me

buttoned up obscurity
its a takeover

notes to self… having company is nice but when the company decides to stay then its a fight to survive… as noted by the garden there’s a time and place for everything

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Poetry, with real toads

she howls

Howl Your Poetry, by Magaly Guerrero.jpg
imaginary garden tuesday platform, howl your poetry into my bones
photo: Vampiros, illustrated by Meritxell Ribas Puigmal.

a wee bit of a squeeze
his love inspires me

we gather round the fire
burning singe grasp the flames

stirring coals whipping fire
attempt to cool the heat

emotional nightmare
we hold on feet afloat

zealous disturbance
excitable crackling thunder

gypsy woven whisper
his love covers me

note to self: i tried my best to howl, in the worse way possible… love on crack, you know that sorta place where you don’t ever wanna be but somehow beyond your control…love hanging out with frogs

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carpe diem, troiku

river.troiku.1

floating candles.basho

carpe diem weekend meditation no 3
on the river troiku

haiku, basho
on the river
lights float to the horizon
the dead rejoice

troiku, ms pie
on the river
buoyant bound bright stars roaming
crowd the once quiet

lights float to the horizon
parallel paths heading home
soaring side by side

the dead rejoices
weightless wonders gather speed
soundless transmission

notes to self: my first troiku .. anticipation… after reading ‘the wandering spirit’, … thank you Chèvrefeuille… though first i saw the photo… the troiku unfolded in such a way… i look forward to creating more… those poems that won’t leave of their own accord… i still wanna change this .. somehow it is unfinished …

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