I, Romeo


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“I defy thee stars”

twinkling in the world so bright,

A showering of power and might,

Shimmering glow of sweet innocence,

Dismembered ember, distant progenitor of my destiny.

You protected my ancestors upon the sea,

Against fearful shadows and hateful memories.

Yet here I am, a product of your mystery

Alone, and seemingly without a guide,

Embarking on a journey without any at my side.

 

“I defy thee”

That eats away the known universe

Carrying ancient legends of heroic deeds

Of fearless, selfless men who dared to bleed,

That sends angel gods whispering to my ears

To escape the paradox of wanting to be free

Of wanting,

Of time in memorial,

like scattered flowers in rotting sun,

Still exuding a day of soft petaled love

Nested passion, fated kiss

On a cheek, on the lips,

in a garden,

Under a tree.

 

 

“I defy thee”

though your beauty reels me in

A siren’s sweet melody licking heart’s wound

Of sorrow simmering in torn silence

Waiting for your ancient fire, burning,

Wanting in beauty, drowning

Under a cold starlit heaven, weeping

In mass self-destruction, bleeding

Unheroic dreams, written at my own birth,

My house is crumbling,

A spinning light in a darkened universe

A failed perception of reality though I try

A burned path of old destruction though I cry

In the shadows of city lights

Old fears of broken social order

Are still fighting in the streets

like bodies falling to the ground

with rusted daggers to the heart

love is a paradox that is only tasted,

and sorrow a potion that “shall be endured”,

drunk with an eternal silence,

A lonely drop under the universe

Just a drop left

Just a drop left

For me.

 

Raining Without You


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Let brisk winds blow away my fears

Destroy those demons from my heart

And let the sun dry up my tears

‘Cause it’s been storming day and night

And I can’t sleep if its been raining

‘Cause rain scent reminds me of you

streaming,

pattering love,

dripping, sweet crying,

dull-aching, dying,

I can’t sleep,

without you.

 

April 5, 2015

It Is I


 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there”,

She used to say,

And I wondered if I would find my way,

Through winding muddy trails

I would go, tripping on rocks,

Sinking in holes, climbing back out

To get there, and one day I found one of my own.

 

But I didn’t cross it;

I went under it.

 

Solid braces reached across a gap,

Wooden beams over a river path,

And the hollow sound of our footsteps

on emptiness, a plank to balance on

with arms stretched out,

Railings daring to reach over,

A place to dangle feet

And tell stories,

And spit,

And sing,

A suspension in space,

A diversion of place

To hide under.

Cool slabs of cement on our backs,

Damp ferns and moss off the beaten path

And roots growing from river banks

A step away from rain drops

And cool mists pattering gently.

 

Gather rubbish and twigs,

Light a fire at night,

huddle in laughter,

gaze in wonderment

warming hands together

in the middle of the night.

 

Trip, trap, trip, trap.

Who dares go under my bridge?

It is I. It is I. It is I.                                                                                April 3, 2015

Life Stage


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I hope I’m not a “pantaloon” in my middle-age

Clowning around in my own self-importance.

with paunchy sides and drooping eyes

Silver–lined hair wanting repair,

Laughing at my own self-imposed despair.

 

I want to be elegant in my carriage

With eyes bright like morning’s light,

And poetic tongue—quick and lithe

to praise the soft petals of delight

And sing my urgent heart’s desire.

 

Who wants to be a doddering fool

With slack mind flowing with repetition

Of unsung dreams, and hopeless monologues

Of how things aren’t what they used to be.

 

Instead, take me to your snow-clad mountains

To drink, to taste, to breathe such majesty

And let my blood run wild like maple syrup

Such sweet infusion of sun and scent and

Spring me, pour me, take my every starlight fervor

For if “All the world is a stage”, I’ll be alive

til’ my last bow, when petals fall, my day is done

without so much of a second childhood.

 

April 1, 2015

*Note: Shakespeare writes of the seven stages of mankind, the 6th being the Pantaloon.

Clearing My Mind


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Can’t stop glancing, Wondering,

Hello?

Can’t stop clicking, Looking,

Are you there?

hundreds of miles, in a second

to get there,

fingers aching, to send

heartstrings to the universe,

waiting, agonizing for some reply,

Instantaneously Nerve-racking

symbol keys, wanting to smile,

Wanting to make hearts,

Make love in cyberspace

Quickly with two fingers, and sometimes

My thumb, over thousands of miles

Wanting to know why

You are silent.

 

And now my phone is off

And words are scrambling out of space

Detaching from an exterior sense

And turning inward

To clear my mind

Of all instants

Of hearts and smiles

And I Love you’s

Spattered expectantly,

ambiguously

 

My heart wants to be filled

With your intentions

Words

And broken phrases

To fill the gaps,

A chinking of cracks

missing you

Wanting to kiss you with

sleepy words

Curled in bed yearning

Like a cat

In a dog’s world.

Anxiety


 

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Anxiety eats me up

Uncounseled

By the up-side-down moon,

Is not content with Venus,

Or Maui’s nets dragging the Universe

Of stars, plowing the planets in a surging sea.

A throw-net of river stones

Plunging me into blue skies,

Tears me apart with shark teeth

And sea shells,

Kills me with patience,

Ka-bobs me with sharp spikes

And holds me over a keawe wood fire

To burn hot, and clear, and bright.

 

Anxiety drives me into the soil

An O’o stick on stone lamenting

Where planting fingers linger near,

Binds me,

Ties me,

Strings me,

Stakes me,

And leaves me

Empty,

A fluttering Hawk’s feather falling free,

Without vibrant red flowers or the sound of rain

Or small ferns bursting with green

On muddy earth

And silent words unsaid in firelight

Lit only with eyes

And rain on skin

once caressed me

With a look.

And a touch,

A leaf on a current

Of air, of water, of breath, of sadness,

Of love with nowhere to go,

Blows me quietly away.

Tender Petals


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Fragrant in the rain are the buds of love

Tender petals open like lips divine

Mountain air, a delicate breath exhales

Lightly, her mist on leaves, and skin reply.

Sonnet. Fragrance of My Heart


Your golden blossoms shake my longing heart

From my sweet sleep awakened dappled light

Remind me I have loved you from the start

A trembling kiss of dazzling aching bright.

 

But what if days of sunrise come to end

Or golden flowers wake too late to bud

Or heavy fragile stems begin to bend

And blossoms flutter fragile to the mud?

 

Then I will reach both hands to catch your fall

For just a fleeting moment of your beauty

Embrace the velvet raindrop of your petal

That lights in grace upon my lips so gently.

 

Whose fragrant love is sweet and more divine

Whose tender heart shines brighter next to mine

sunrise

sunrise

Conflict/Resolution


Hope

After the Rain

 

I move into the rain

Where life is real,

Detaching from dry dust of day

Its residue coating my thoughts

Like broken words

Orchestrating, motivating,

Stirring, pushing to external heights,

Crashing,

Dissolving in liquid

And wet socks.

 

Rain streams

Over eyelids and cheeks,

Over-flowing rivulets,

Cleansing,

Falling on fertile lips

Waiting swollen

For a happy ending,

Winter clinging to an earth

Of resilience

Despite blight and sounds of cold snaps,

Increments of anxiety,

Internal waves deafening momentum,

Breaking inward, outward,

Out of proportion,

Or is it only an illusion?

 

Raindrops trickling,

Reminding me,

Surface of skin, warmth

Of salt, and memories

Like pale pink berries still warm,

Still succulent with summer’s sun

In that rain long ago,

Water remembers

My heartbeat fluttering in fine mist

Wanting to taste you then

In soft soil,

Wet between rows of peas

and cantaloupe, tongue-watering,

A quickening pale shoot

Moving forward,

Hands, hair, hope merging

In reality,

Conflict is a sweet word,

Surging sap between winter and spring

Red and blue,

Pele and Hi`iaka raging in a blizzard of

Fire and snow

Dualities tangled together

In love for an eternity,

Tongues, veins, blood, skin

Moving into streams

Of rain,

Falling gently.

 

Karen K. L. Espaniola         February 1, 2015

 

 

 

Low Tides


Punalu`u, cloud reflection in tidal pool

Punalu`u, cloud reflection in tidal pool

Your words slip through my lips,

A gentle push into the unknown

Where I wait in darkness

For water to move,

In dampness,

In raindrops,

In ocean tides

Where shells of beauty

Are stranded on clinging rocks,

Vulnerable,

Open,

Still wet

For gathering,

By finger tips,

Palms,

And tongues,

Searching for meaning.

Karen K.L. Espaniola      October 7, 2014

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© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.