POETRY: THE MOON SHINES EXTREMELY BRIGHT

Is love a plague, which en-sickens many men,

fondling their dreams and breaking their hearts?

Or is love like a sweet breeze which is only obtained

for one short minute, and in one short minute it is gone?

Love is like a comfortable-hot object; at first great,

but in the end its greatness can burn you.

Love is like the frozen tears which cover the ground

in the winter, not leaving anything uncovered, oh how sweet,

yet so cold.

Love is a thorned rose, so beautiful, yet painful as hell.

We have faced the beast but the beast has put humbleness

on our face, this is called love.

What is love?

What is this thing called love?

Is love a divine part of you that is shared

with others, unwillingly?

Or is love the breath cherished each instant,

as if it were your last?

I want to be soaked with love,

I want to be bonded in love,

I want to be choked with and in love.

But I want to be loved,

And in being loved

I want to be lost in love,

Where time is but an object lost and never missed,

In a time which is still, like stars yielding to their creator,

In a time where each blink whispers I love you,

In a silent time, hushed by the perfectness of the scene,

my Utopia,

And in being in love

I want to be lost in love

With the one I love.

Love is the kiss that warms my heart mysteriously,

Love is but a simple word for something so complex,

But when you are lost in love,

Its perplexed complexity is simplified, in due time.

What if this is that thing called love?







2

The moon shines extremely bright

In the beauty of the night.

All that's well and all that's sweet,

Turns off the lights to go to sleep.

But not me, not now, not ever,

Until I find that love that lasts forever.

In the night air I weep

To the dark sky that is deep.

Will I be awake till dawn,

Or will you be my love from this moment on?







3

Swaying through life like the pollen flowing continuously

to the next piece of land to rebirth.

Each carried memory drags my spirit further down.

My heart is ripped and dirty, my thoughts are puzzled

and twisted and to look at my face it appears as a clown.

Play the game or be played,

trust if you must but watch the whisper that's next to your ear.

For this shadow, the simpleton can lead your mind into his truth.

The limbs have been burned

your control has been drawn but where has it gone?

The remaining roots of the past;

the light that still seeps in is pulling me outward,

but where is time?

Time to mend my soul

Time to get back

Time for time inside,

for it is time for control

to cover the hole.



This beautiful one, each leaf, each mark, what they are blinded

by may now see the truth and glamour that lays deep inside me.

For the key is the answer

The lock hidden from the cold,

Will bring me up,

My soul mended,

My dreams reality to face this hidden shadow

and soar to the spinning stars where my mind unwinds.





4



i gathered you from the absence of night.

in thickets of sorrow,

among branches of bile taste

that surrounded your flight.



i melted in your sweetness, your sister sea.

i fathomed the depth of your ocean,

bathed in sea spray,

and i fell inward into your darkening waves.



all at once, from the distance,

i heard the roar of sadness,

rolling along peninsulas

that rested their tired bones around you.



i chiseled your name,

loud and clear, along banks of beaches.

i named you my kingdom,

my mountains- i offered your eyes to see.



i gathered you words, in the daily harvest of pain.

many times, i looked for you

in chains of passing clouds,

memorizing pillows that travailed in my sleeps.



and more than once,

i gathered your face to kiss

as it floated by and disappeared

among the flowering sky.