At 3.33 am
the moon bathed with
the snow and I slowly peel
orange sections from each other
swallow pulpy juice.
I have never done this before
at 3 am
in the middle of a moon bath
and I am smiling.
-full moon on the train between Winnipeg and Ontario…
09.01.11
Air
bubble pricked
by your purity
flawless space breathed
my eye equal
Holding this
can anything else
ever touch
the branches break
underfoot and
bark softens into cinder
bird leaves its perch
cold pebbles
and ankles in water
reflection in the pool
never changes
from Web 19, by Sitarne to be released March 2012
Mystics’ Story is an illustrated poem-story book with oracle cards in cut-out format. Listen to part 1 of this book in 3 recordings MS1 MS2 MS3
Offered here is Web 19, my newest poem-story Web19-1 Web19-2
I Ching Love Story explores the energy of the 64 hexagrams with poet John O’ Sullivan to express universal love in poem-letters. Listen to excerpts ICLS1 ICLS2
The early breaths
rest with sprinkled glass
on stone scented
beer and urine
dusky sky is fresh
a clear stream for thought
empty in Plaza del Sol.
Cathdral, soft elegance
my bench, silent eyes
my smile, orange sections
day a juicy peace
called into shape with
Spanish voices
and two bottles of beer
cut another world
through the square.
Paths are a cross
Plaza de Alfonso El Castro.
I lick my fingers
orange on tongue
lift my pack
step on stone. Pavement
to dirt path.
horses with liquid eyes
pull me sideways
rest velvet caresses
another hill climbed
ringing, steady
cowbells across the hills.
22. Temple
heart illuminates body
heaven meets earth
spirit breathes beauty
perfection takes form
your wisdom
shining
53: 1/19: another cycle new remembered
beach glass
softened edges
broken, shattered
tossed and
then caressed
by ocean’s light
travels the depths
visits coral reefs
to carry their
crimson blossoms
with whales’
story records
glints softly in the sun
awaits the right hand
to lift its lightness
and listen
to treasures untold
I have tasted the edge of words that
cut deep into light
where breath is a smile
is a touch is this word
and this scene and
this road this cloth
that covers my body
today
seamless into
yesterday and tomorrow.
These words,
their edges are
square d roots of
one eye. 1 i
God wants my body
who am I to deny him.
He takes my hand and leads me
to the edge of a waterfall.
The spray is a rose
that does not stop to bloom.
The dew of its petals
cast an iridescent arch
that pulls my body closer.
I let out a cry
that is the echo of the name
my lover calls me.
It is the echo of your name
too it is
the shape of the star
I see in your eye
it is the immortal body
of God, master shape shifter.
There is no thing he omits
in his smile.
my water glass
pristine, full
survivor of
a drunken brawl
what keeps it intact?
Only Grace.
It’s not what I do,
think, don’t do
don’t think
it’s simply being
awake to notice.
Witness is Player.
