More beautiful than the winds.

More beautiful than the winds
Who by their silky back-and-forth
Weave hope into destiny;
And never has the hope launched
Any man’s wager as high
as the vital illusion Who rides his flight
on the wings of the vulture.

If death can fly for the sake of stealing,
is there anything that life,
for the sake of dying, could not do?

©Ionwhite

odalisque

Groping, you chose me to be the statue of
all allegory, just by the habit of immersing
myself in your sea at the end of the world;
I lose my head beneath your bare stare and
with each step I become glass to be ground

By chance were I not your favorite lover,
the one who advances sans hesitation to
nestle inside the hatch of your hand just
as it snaps shut, were I not your favorite
lover who bites to sip the venom from
your wounded heart would your palm open?

Oh tie me down so that I do not go
away every time I hear your thieves song,
singing at the expense of day, I confuse sand
and snow, wolves and shadows, your hand
on my shoulder, and it’s too late to turn back
to set my hours by the sun, now you have
marked me with your secret alphabet, and
now I belong to the tribe of those who dwell
inside the radiant darkness of those who look
their best with eyes closed, lying alongside
the edges of all abyss, languid to watch
ravens fly away, never to return before the
Dove of the oblivious moon

©Ionwhite

Reproduction d'Art: Odilon Redon "La Naissance de Vénus" 30 x 70 ...

ad dominum meum

I am Streaming silent Radiant longing;
I am streaming helpless prayers
I am pretending to tear down all the
fragile dams so tenderly built to
protect your precious treasures

I love your mind’s measures,
it’s restless order calls to me, come
to follow and I will take your lead
take me to our love that brings us to meet
in temples where the sun still sleeps in
ancient stillness among tombs,

I love your reason’s wise madness, I
love how it breaks and re-constitutes me
into your architecture of passion, this
is the price of your love saved up and
mine taken at the cost of my life,

You living like a lonely child inside
the pit of my heart, I love you even when
I am a veil of rain inside your laughing eyes,
I love you with purest unity, portioned
without cut and without any returning
to my destiny

I love how your love takes us to the
sharp dangerous edges of your soul, nearby,
our guardian angels bend down in blessings
as every safety promised by God is allowed and
made manifest under your stern gaze, and I
inside your heart, this is where I sleep,
forever here.

©Ionwhite

tsunami

As a Light that always goes
In front, if I take you by the
hand, will everything be suddenly
simpler? The people, nicer, their
wordy evils turned to hardened lava
under their tongues, yes, as everything
is done by the hand.. take my hand
under this lamplight of love,

as from the black clouds, rubies and gems
pour out , as from my eyes your bottomless
sorrows fall into me; without your face before
me, as beneath each darkness of my eyelashes,
gardens bloom from blood rains pouring
down around my booted soul,

my love, what does a bubble
in the ocean know about the sea?
what does a handful of sand know
about the desert? Books are destroyed,
statues pulled down, banned
poems break like glass ..what would
even a child learn from all of this desolation?

I just want to be as a child for you,
as a Light that always goes
in front, I will take you by the hand
until we are both transparently, light
as light as places that have no names
in being, as essence as far from evil
just so you can stop and wait for me.

©Ionwhite

stripes of kohl

Blushed eyelids, stripes of kohl..
Colors of stigmata inside caved silences
violet stained red, horizons of absence, this
world is not mine

The trees of Eden do not grow in this Garden
and the soft breaths and the heaving bosoms of
flowers ignore my begging, claiming, but yes!,
you are the fruit of roots growing out of
deep nights descending the blind stars

Oh great Mother Night! daughter of Mercy, pity

our mechanical Egyptian arms, our drunken
glass eyes turned to the walls, reading
hieroglyphs between the drawings, laughter
reigns over this underground cavern of souls
our days of invention crashing soundlessly
our earthenware bearing resemblance
to the shamelessness of all shareable destructions

©Ionwhite

Khaled Hafez (Egyptian, b. 1963) | Tomb Sonata in Three Military ...

radiant prisoner

I belong to the tribe of those
who dwell in radiant darklight dawn,
Nights and days with eyes open
under the unbearable blinking
of the sun, watching
for signals in the sky,

The shadows of a dozen
dazzling eclipses on the face of time,
the whitelit thunderings from God
raging against a painted planet’s eyelashes

I’m on fire, I am reduced to ashes
The blooded bird takes her flight
disappearing inside a skylit ring
worn on the hand that paints the soft
grains in between light and darkness:
I live inside the eyes of a world
the eyes of a world where a man
takes no prisoners when he dreams.

© Ionwhite

Her train of Stars

Jeanne D’Arc

The demon of mockery
dragged you into the dust
to defile the noblest
image of humanity.

The spirit of this world
is eternally at war with
all that is beautiful
all that is good and great:
it does not believe in God
or in celestial spirits,
it wants to steal from the
heart all its treasures,
as it destroys all beliefs
by attacking all illusions.

But poetry, of humble birth
like you, is also
a pious shepherdess;
She covers you with all
the privileges of her divinity,
she surrounds you with
a procession of stars, and
spreads her glory around you …

O you that God’s heart made
you will live immortal!

The world likes to obscure
everything that shines,
to cover everything
that rises with it’s mire.
But fear nothing!

There are still good hearts
which quiver with sublime
and generous actions;
Momus delights the multitude,
a noble spirit cherishes
only noble things.

©Ionwhite

 

We Are All Made of Stars

My heart was tired of finding no one,
My eyes were tired of being disappointed.

One night, I wandered, thoughtful and dreaming
through sleeping plains; in the distance, snowfalling
on red horizons before the growing dawn,

In the shadows, I was slowly stripping away
memories of my loves, and when I was done,
I looked behind at what remained when
suddenly, I saw Him, calmly and serenely
walking slowly, weariness enveloping Him

I saw Him.. He came to me.. reaching out
His arms, hugging me; His eyes closed as if
to see further than reality, He spoke to beg me
“Let me see your blue eyes in the night”

Silver stars rose from the earth …
They say there are skies under which no
man can live, but I never saw them when
He smiled, He loved the azure of my eyes,
and nothing in the world was ever more
intense than this.

©Ionwhite

because your eyes have seen me

The curve of your laughter
draped around my heart,
dancing and sweet the halo
of time resting and safe,
so safe that I no longer
remember all that I know;
your eyes see me in the day
dancing with the falling leaves

At night you are my halo ring
the moon among the dews upon
the soul of time, a night cradle
and safe because your eyes see me
I become the wind in the reeds,
the fragance of the bees’ honeys

Your Mithra wings covering
the world in light
extending over the sky,
the sea and all skies and seas
because your eyes have seen
me I become the source of all
colors, and fragrances hatched
in brooding aurorae nestled in
the straws of the stars, and now
I know how each day depends
on innocence, the whole world
depends on our pure eyes and
all of our blood flowing
into the seeing of this world

© Ionwhite

Nimbus

Rob’s dream is so intense that I shivered upon reading

robgradens

I dreamed I went back in search of four bass guitars I once owned that were my favorites. All but one were black, the other red. I was moving north on River Road, with Grocery Outlet on my left, searching for and recovering lost instruments and lost time. N—— from church was in the dream. It’s interesting how people we underestimate in daily life appear in our dreams, as fresh and vibrant as if holy and heroic. River Road itself appeared green with life and sunshine. The scene at the intersection of that and Silver Lane was nimbused or haloed with spiritual energy, like the circle around the full moon, except more like the sun’s corona. There was a glowing aura about everything, all green and yellow like a sunlit lawn in the summer. And there was I, trying to recollect the pieces of my broken life, when maybe the…

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the mother of lost souls

Dead wings, dead wings, to fall
is to be reborn out of bright
solitude and dropped into the sea
The memory of the earth is a weight
of waves and islands; in my blood and
in my bones, the weight of my
incarnations is stronger than my will
to be unique, it breaks me, destroys me
reminding me always of my place.

I am the mother of lost souls and
prisoner to my faults, my beauty and
to my will; transparently walled, my
cells of life delivered by innocent death
spoiled by joy before the open grave
of the earth, the sea and the air and
so docile, docile like a stone, an angel
or a even a star; to fall is to be reborn
drawn into the deepest of deaths
into birth and to life, it is all the same
sleep, a unique grace which bends the
paths of heaven to the curve of the earth;
Even my highest desire is subservient
to the peace of love which governs
storms, wars and the birth of wings

©Ionwhite

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