Submissions by Ahavati (Tams)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Don't make me take my pearls off.
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
26th Jul 2016 2:28pm
26th Jul 2016 2:28pm
Sacred Contracts XXVII: Independent Women
Being Alone is Her Default
I.
We spill across sand because
nothing can hold us back.
Aquatic creatures swimming
the coastal waters of mankind;
always mistresses, never wives.
Our mystery is our strength;
our strength our independence.
The Ocean is a refuge, our lives
unstoppable waves cracking
the shipyards of commerce.
When angry, we swell; when hurt
we rise up to a category greater
than our depths; we evade nets;
we swallow...
I.
We spill across sand because
nothing can hold us back.
Aquatic creatures swimming
the coastal waters of mankind;
always mistresses, never wives.
Our mystery is our strength;
our strength our independence.
The Ocean is a refuge, our lives
unstoppable waves cracking
the shipyards of commerce.
When angry, we swell; when hurt
we rise up to a category greater
than our depths; we evade nets;
we swallow...
1411 reads
25 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
23rd Jul 2016 1:48pm
23rd Jul 2016 1:48pm
Poetic Gods, in honor of
“You have come to the shore.
There are no instructions.” *
Air relaxes into moisture;
immense space submerging
into tiny crystals of rising ice
coating its humid skin;
Deforestation strips
its oxygen source;
poachers ravage
its basin of origin;
extinction fossilizes
its creation to stone,
darkening the Belief
of a Future from us.
We look to beauty for Breath;
We look to Poetry for Life.
Trust diligently sages
Her Sweat Lodge
on a foundation of rock,
the...
1391 reads
19 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
18th Jul 2016 6:20pm
18th Jul 2016 6:20pm
Sacred Contracts XXVI: Expectation
Expectation is the root of all
heartache." ~ Shakespeare
The reunion of clouds arrived
this morning, shaking rain
from slaked coats in the doorway;
I welcomed them as always
though it was not always so;
I offered the most comfortable
room, overstuffed chair, played
the music they enjoyed, served
their favorite tea and biscuits
on the best China I owned;
They mingle about the rooms
saucers rattling, telling stories
to hatchlings in the chimney
their gaping...
heartache." ~ Shakespeare
The reunion of clouds arrived
this morning, shaking rain
from slaked coats in the doorway;
I welcomed them as always
though it was not always so;
I offered the most comfortable
room, overstuffed chair, played
the music they enjoyed, served
their favorite tea and biscuits
on the best China I owned;
They mingle about the rooms
saucers rattling, telling stories
to hatchlings in the chimney
their gaping...
1229 reads
36 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Jul 2016 9:53pm
15th Jul 2016 9:53pm
Willow
I know what it’s like not to write
for meaning, unobtrusively depart
over the wooden floor boards
merging with after light.
I know what it’s like to wake
forget to remember, record
what it was you quietly dreamt
so you could pen something
anything before time crept
into someone else’s deadline.
I know what it’s like to desire
yearn for the Muse through
a burning pyre of emptiness.
But, I tell you, you are blessed,
anointed, chosen for the test
to endure the flamed...
for meaning, unobtrusively depart
over the wooden floor boards
merging with after light.
I know what it’s like to wake
forget to remember, record
what it was you quietly dreamt
so you could pen something
anything before time crept
into someone else’s deadline.
I know what it’s like to desire
yearn for the Muse through
a burning pyre of emptiness.
But, I tell you, you are blessed,
anointed, chosen for the test
to endure the flamed...
1824 reads
18 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Jul 2016 9:25pm
14th Jul 2016 9:25pm
You must know
You must know there are times
I will not choose you over the poem;
nor your email, text or pouting silence
over the verse;
Bulging zippers will not sway me
nor swollen suitcases by the entrance.
If you want to be first in someone’s life
you must know, it can never be mine.
I'll never be the faithful wife
skinning vegetables at the sink;
a gimlet eye’d grandmother supervising,
starched apron and recipe splayed
submissively across the counter -
contents spooned carefully;
the roast, flayed,...
I will not choose you over the poem;
nor your email, text or pouting silence
over the verse;
Bulging zippers will not sway me
nor swollen suitcases by the entrance.
If you want to be first in someone’s life
you must know, it can never be mine.
I'll never be the faithful wife
skinning vegetables at the sink;
a gimlet eye’d grandmother supervising,
starched apron and recipe splayed
submissively across the counter -
contents spooned carefully;
the roast, flayed,...
#SylviaPlath
#WilliamShakespeare
#confessional
#LifeAsAWriter
#PabloNeruda
2217 reads
54 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
10th Jul 2016 5:34pm
10th Jul 2016 5:34pm
'Nine Song Yellow River First Bay'
Four races of conditioned evolution
migrating through seven continents
singing nine songs into the river;
a sheet music of stumbling notes
wading through yellow water
toward first bay's orb'd mouth;
its throat swallowing movement
into a bright chorus of raised voice
pressurized into one meaning;
each member an interlocked color
of skin beneath dark waters raising
the Homosapien octave together.
~
Photo credit: 黄河 ...
migrating through seven continents
singing nine songs into the river;
a sheet music of stumbling notes
wading through yellow water
toward first bay's orb'd mouth;
its throat swallowing movement
into a bright chorus of raised voice
pressurized into one meaning;
each member an interlocked color
of skin beneath dark waters raising
the Homosapien octave together.
~
Photo credit: 黄河 ...
1550 reads
27 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Jul 2016 7:27pm
4th Jul 2016 7:27pm
E Pluribus Unum
I.
Writing is meditation, yoga—
a morning mantra
of creative expansion
into the universe as love t
o whoever absorbs the frequency.
Today, over tea and silence
I contemplate what this truly means to me.
What it means to be cooled by a fan
vs. no electricity. To have warm water
much less clean, or for housekeeping.
I know what being dirty means—
I know how being hungry feels—
even now my stomach twists
because I forgot groceries again.
But, what does it mean...
Writing is meditation, yoga—
a morning mantra
of creative expansion
into the universe as love t
o whoever absorbs the frequency.
Today, over tea and silence
I contemplate what this truly means to me.
What it means to be cooled by a fan
vs. no electricity. To have warm water
much less clean, or for housekeeping.
I know what being dirty means—
I know how being hungry feels—
even now my stomach twists
because I forgot groceries again.
But, what does it mean...
1487 reads
17 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
28th Jun 2016 11:17pm
28th Jun 2016 11:17pm
Wheel of Suffering
Blood rapids drum circles
around serrated nerves,
their stone firmaments
positioned above the water.
Thoughts shift continuum -
cracks the paradigm in half.
A funneled cavity of muscle
constricts a back-draft of breath;
the lack of expansion expels it.
The karmic lesson has returned;
The pupil stands ready to learn
bruises still fresh from the previous;
The wheel slows down for none
who seek the purity of awareness.
~
around serrated nerves,
their stone firmaments
positioned above the water.
Thoughts shift continuum -
cracks the paradigm in half.
A funneled cavity of muscle
constricts a back-draft of breath;
the lack of expansion expels it.
The karmic lesson has returned;
The pupil stands ready to learn
bruises still fresh from the previous;
The wheel slows down for none
who seek the purity of awareness.
~
1290 reads
36 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Jun 2016 10:51pm
24th Jun 2016 10:51pm
Motherland
There are those
who remain loyal
to the Motherland.
Heirs of tradition,
a jaw's carved bone
and twisted curvature,
a Wisdom tooth curled
hard around a Truth
decaying in the gums
of a modern world.
Those who remain
sow ancient furrows of
duty, honor, and respect
before dying toothless
themselves.
~
Liuzhou, China 柳州, 中国
Photo by 走，一起去看世界！
used with permission
who remain loyal
to the Motherland.
Heirs of tradition,
a jaw's carved bone
and twisted curvature,
a Wisdom tooth curled
hard around a Truth
decaying in the gums
of a modern world.
Those who remain
sow ancient furrows of
duty, honor, and respect
before dying toothless
themselves.
~
Liuzhou, China 柳州, 中国
Photo by 走，一起去看世界！
used with permission
1284 reads
20 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
23rd Jun 2016 8:07pm
23rd Jun 2016 8:07pm
Arteries of an Orange
The arteries of an orange
differ not from our own
sacred geometry
absorbing water
and light to survive.
After all, all of life is this:
A reflection of ourselves.
~
differ not from our own
sacred geometry
absorbing water
and light to survive.
After all, all of life is this:
A reflection of ourselves.
~
1306 reads
32 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
19th Jun 2016 9:18pm
19th Jun 2016 9:18pm
Blessings
1477 reads
36 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
17th Jun 2016 6:37pm
17th Jun 2016 6:37pm
Origin
Each year scenery
alters yet remains –
the flowers, still sunny
with different petals;
the birds, still yellow
with different feathers;
the bees, still striped
with different stingers:
a cyclic nature of Nature
ensures recurrence.
This repetition awakens us
To the origin of our birth.
~
Author's note: One could spend an
eternity watching birds and bees and ...
alters yet remains –
the flowers, still sunny
with different petals;
the birds, still yellow
with different feathers;
the bees, still striped
with different stingers:
a cyclic nature of Nature
ensures recurrence.
This repetition awakens us
To the origin of our birth.
~
Author's note: One could spend an
eternity watching birds and bees and ...
1209 reads
35 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Ahavati (Tams)
