Submissions by Ahavati (Tams)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Don't make me take my pearls off.
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
22nd Apr 2016 8:49pm
22nd Apr 2016 8:49pm
Ecclesiastes (napowrimo #22)
Heavy rain silenced
birds this morning,
muting their voices
with a procession
of muffled cymbals
upon metal rooftops,
sodden steps, and
the weighted spirits
of an atmospheric
funerary service.
The raw puncture
of vortex stripping
emotion to the bone -
the strongest mountain
crumbled in submission,
fire burnt out to ash,
the sacred wind and
water somberly placid.
Those yearning for
the secret solace
of knowledge have
eternal access...
birds this morning,
muting their voices
with a procession
of muffled cymbals
upon metal rooftops,
sodden steps, and
the weighted spirits
of an atmospheric
funerary service.
The raw puncture
of vortex stripping
emotion to the bone -
the strongest mountain
crumbled in submission,
fire burnt out to ash,
the sacred wind and
water somberly placid.
Those yearning for
the secret solace
of knowledge have
eternal access...
#NaPoWriMo2016
1197 reads
9 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
18th Apr 2016 6:55pm
18th Apr 2016 6:55pm
Morse Code (napowrimo #18)
I don't care to calculate possibilities
despite the precision of mathematics.
They're endless with a 99% chance
of failing. Look, words are too thick,
sticky sap in the trunk of my throat.
You can claw like a bear shredding
a hive of sugar, but, they’ll be bloody
bits of bark and stinger’d carcass to
swallow. You’ll bleed from splinters
and blame me for not offering freely.
I have no instruction manual to reference,
and it doesn't come naturally. You won't
understand the syntax when sound surfs
my breath; I’m choking on the...
despite the precision of mathematics.
They're endless with a 99% chance
of failing. Look, words are too thick,
sticky sap in the trunk of my throat.
You can claw like a bear shredding
a hive of sugar, but, they’ll be bloody
bits of bark and stinger’d carcass to
swallow. You’ll bleed from splinters
and blame me for not offering freely.
I have no instruction manual to reference,
and it doesn't come naturally. You won't
understand the syntax when sound surfs
my breath; I’m choking on the...
#NaPoWriMo2016
1474 reads
13 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Apr 2016 6:57pm
11th Apr 2016 6:57pm
Ambiguity Sucks Period (ACROSTIC) NaPoWriMo #11
Ambiguity is a premeditated
Murderer strangling clarity
Barehanded by the throat
Into a warped possibility that
Grows from shallow ground,
Unearthed mounds of mis-
Interpretation from a densely
Trodden system of hope until
Yielding a false prophet of truth.
Shouldn’t we at least position as
Understanding adults, hold no
Contempt for the past while
Knowing direct honesty would
Salvage an eternal friendship?
Perhaps acquaintances are not
Enough to satisfy the palpable
Reality of our...
Murderer strangling clarity
Barehanded by the throat
Into a warped possibility that
Grows from shallow ground,
Unearthed mounds of mis-
Interpretation from a densely
Trodden system of hope until
Yielding a false prophet of truth.
Shouldn’t we at least position as
Understanding adults, hold no
Contempt for the past while
Knowing direct honesty would
Salvage an eternal friendship?
Perhaps acquaintances are not
Enough to satisfy the palpable
Reality of our...
#NaPoWriMo2017
#NaPoWriMo2016
1354 reads
16 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
8th Apr 2016 5:03pm
8th Apr 2016 5:03pm
Perigee's Black Hole
A rash of stars
embosses the dark
with sputtering wicks.
One trips, plummets
toward the black carpet:
God striking a match,
lighting the white candle,
sage the heavens clean.
I calculate a wish under
a constellation's northern arc.
A slumbering dream cocooned
in limbic archive briefly stirs,
but is quickly magnetized
back into its REM state
by an imperceptive pull
into Perigee’s black hole.
~
NaPoWriMo #8 - thought I'd post a few here periodically.
embosses the dark
with sputtering wicks.
One trips, plummets
toward the black carpet:
God striking a match,
lighting the white candle,
sage the heavens clean.
I calculate a wish under
a constellation's northern arc.
A slumbering dream cocooned
in limbic archive briefly stirs,
but is quickly magnetized
back into its REM state
by an imperceptive pull
into Perigee’s black hole.
~
NaPoWriMo #8 - thought I'd post a few here periodically.
1198 reads
16 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
6th Apr 2016 5:31am
6th Apr 2016 5:31am
'Pro Forma': Channeling Starbuck
Not all writers were destined
to kayak the rapids of poetry
into extended history. Some
bought out their own contract
to inspire those that braved
the dog-eat-dog's den of
publication to survive waning
identity and rebuild atop select
adjectives; look at Kathryn's gift.
Or Merwin's fountain of ink.
Though I lamented, I was
wasn't really envious.
'Space-saver...
to kayak the rapids of poetry
into extended history. Some
bought out their own contract
to inspire those that braved
the dog-eat-dog's den of
publication to survive waning
identity and rebuild atop select
adjectives; look at Kathryn's gift.
Or Merwin's fountain of ink.
Though I lamented, I was
wasn't really envious.
'Space-saver...
1110 reads
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2016 9:36pm
2nd Apr 2016 9:36pm
Sacred Contracts XXIII: The Nature of Strays
1. Realization: i
It’s understood
when a stray snaps
at a hand(out).
It’s their past,
their experience,
a proven defense
against steel-toed
smiles posed as
mercy in the street.
It’s the chance
you take by
opening your heart
to get close to it.
2. Realization: ii
You can’t become
discontent or take
personally its lone ...
It’s understood
when a stray snaps
at a hand(out).
It’s their past,
their experience,
a proven defense
against steel-toed
smiles posed as
mercy in the street.
It’s the chance
you take by
opening your heart
to get close to it.
2. Realization: ii
You can’t become
discontent or take
personally its lone ...
1674 reads
17 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Mar 2016 10:42pm
29th Mar 2016 10:42pm
All you need is less
I'm not looking for a husband,
but, out here on the island
where there's a castaway's view,
I can tell who might have
camped the volcano with me
to discuss the diaphanous
beauty of secrets
and the door left open
to an abandoned excavation
too succulent to pass.
Enter here, secret:
All you need is less.
Discontentment is a door;
wanting to laugh hard
with someone who knows you
without knowing you
is also a door.
But, I'm into entire rooms
of...
but, out here on the island
where there's a castaway's view,
I can tell who might have
camped the volcano with me
to discuss the diaphanous
beauty of secrets
and the door left open
to an abandoned excavation
too succulent to pass.
Enter here, secret:
All you need is less.
Discontentment is a door;
wanting to laugh hard
with someone who knows you
without knowing you
is also a door.
But, I'm into entire rooms
of...
1872 reads
20 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
27th Mar 2016 1:00pm
27th Mar 2016 1:00pm
starmen
from the precipice
dawn scales the serated ledge
an enlightened view
ancient to modern
back and forth we timely step
conventions unbound
worlds to discover
heiroglyphs and stones bequeath
an entombed portal
burning juniper
mountain sagebrush anointing
holy procession
from surrounding hours
granite space magnetizes
the dead at sunrise
~
dawn scales the serated ledge
an enlightened view
ancient to modern
back and forth we timely step
conventions unbound
worlds to discover
heiroglyphs and stones bequeath
an entombed portal
burning juniper
mountain sagebrush anointing
holy procession
from surrounding hours
granite space magnetizes
the dead at sunrise
~
1295 reads
17 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2016 1:39pm
23rd Mar 2016 1:39pm
paschal
seeded earth walker
blooming from star-crusted roots
astral déjà vu
~
blooming from star-crusted roots
astral déjà vu
~
1099 reads
14 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Mar 2016 9:00pm
21st Mar 2016 9:00pm
Innumerable
When one exhibits
tender vulnerability
without fear
of appearance
or bruised ego,
or expectation
of reciprocation,
then one has unbarred
the ingress of Love
and flown into a world
of countless beauty.
~
tender vulnerability
without fear
of appearance
or bruised ego,
or expectation
of reciprocation,
then one has unbarred
the ingress of Love
and flown into a world
of countless beauty.
~
1365 reads
25 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
18th Mar 2016 10:35pm
18th Mar 2016 10:35pm
Air Castles II: Mizpah
The LORD watch between
me and thee, when we are
absent one from another.
~ Genesis 31:49
Come, share Blackstar of anise
through the distance with me,
maybe some music and poetry;
or, perhaps sacred silence instead.
The magic of stained glass would
playfully contrast the adolescent
cartoons translated in Spanish; our
laughter would stain the hardwoods,
and the tea from between our lips too.
If our hearts should burst and elope
from a continental divide of absence,
let their direction be Love, that...
me and thee, when we are
absent one from another.
~ Genesis 31:49
Come, share Blackstar of anise
through the distance with me,
maybe some music and poetry;
or, perhaps sacred silence instead.
The magic of stained glass would
playfully contrast the adolescent
cartoons translated in Spanish; our
laughter would stain the hardwoods,
and the tea from between our lips too.
If our hearts should burst and elope
from a continental divide of absence,
let their direction be Love, that...
1091 reads
5 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
16th Mar 2016 10:35pm
16th Mar 2016 10:35pm
Sacred Contracts XXII: Shadow Work
I thought the most beautiful thing
In the world must be a shadow..."
~ Plath
Shadows aren’t faceless reflections
of ourselves in stalking silhouettes
of concrete edging the weedy grass
and gravel-faced dirt of our pasts.
They’re storms brewing: God’s stale
breath at noon ashing his cigarette
over shag carpet, yellowed fingertip
eclipsing our kaleidoscopic vision.
Shadows aren’t cool, shady respites
or dark muscles flexing. Nor are they ...
In the world must be a shadow..."
~ Plath
Shadows aren’t faceless reflections
of ourselves in stalking silhouettes
of concrete edging the weedy grass
and gravel-faced dirt of our pasts.
They’re storms brewing: God’s stale
breath at noon ashing his cigarette
over shag carpet, yellowed fingertip
eclipsing our kaleidoscopic vision.
Shadows aren’t cool, shady respites
or dark muscles flexing. Nor are they ...
1498 reads
17 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Ahavati (Tams)
