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Shakti in a Starbucks, With Tattoo




chrysanthemum
          was an orbit of fleshly canvas,
on a trajectory toward orchid heaven -
                  Mars/Venus conjunction in rosebud
      about the fourth rib down
where manjira fingers etch braille stems

ringed cosmos silver       
      over Starbuck caramel-frothed steam

her chosen kameez, a corridor
  where faint ivy creepers rose,
a Maori chant over sunflower shoulder
     
        an undulate litany         
of where shall I touch thee first

Omar Khayyam inside lotus heart
                  The Rubaiyat falling
                  upon peony lids







Author notes

LXXXVII.
Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
One glimpse -- If dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd
To which the fainting Traveller might spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field!

LXXXVIII.
Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits -- and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!

from The Rubayyat of Omar Khayyam
Translated into English in 1859 by Edward FitzGerald
Translated into ascii in 1993 by Dave Gross (dgross@polyslo.csc.calpoly.edu)



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A contest entry for: Where have all the flowers gone?
by kaibab

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manjira - Indian finger cymbals

kameez - Traditional Indian blouse



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Comments

1 - 7 of 7

  • poet2angels gold member
    September 23

    Edit | Reply
    Such a brilliant piece here filled with amazing language and metaphor which creates such a scene...I just love this!

    Congrats on your beautiful award!

    Lynda


  • kaibab silver member
    September 23

    Edit | Reply
    Braise my lust in fever flowing page,
    breathe atumn nectar of frost between sylabbles,
    sip the petal of white space winter,
    when snow flies the mind to color...

    thanks so much for this wonderful entry

    • simone waters
      September 23
      Edit | Reply


      Ice-laden footprints –
      envelop the lake…
      riddles linger

      I've shed winter skin
      to lie exposed-
      draw closer by your sighs-
      pulled down, down....down
      coupled, close to your fire

      and I know
      a well-spring of Eden
      splashes soft in the clearing,
      sated, quivering

      I am left-
      the trembling flower

      ~

      You are so welcome, Scribe. Thank you for the honor of Silver in your contest.



  • Night Hope gold member
    September 23
    Edit | Reply

    Here ya go. Artwork, too.

    www.okonlife.com

  • Night Hope gold member
    September 23

    Edit | Reply

    I have Khayyam's Rubaiyat, the Fitzgerald translation. It's beautiful. So is this poem, Scribe. Good luck in Rich's contest, Sweetie.


    • simone waters
      September 23

      Edit | Reply
      to you for grokking this one, Beauty... (but I knew you would)
      Fitzgerald version - what an elegant translation, eh? Thank you for the lovely image as well, W. One day I must become a paying contributor so I might post such graphics to my pages... Till then, links will have to suffice.

      Many hugggggssss to you today for your kindesses...

1 - 7 of 7