Soul-deep

Soul-deep how does this sound I sat down to wonder
Often those odd thoughts and ideas emerge from there
Sounds bitter-sweet, hard-soft, harsh-crude and more chimes
Myriad shapes of the mind that tell tales and sings songs
Many times they look different, apart, and out of scope

Soul-deep how does this sound I sat down to wonder
When I throw them out to the world that is drenched with morals
They rhyme like knife and stones bundled up in a bag slinging violently
Words that form potent force to fight many tall tombs and blood lines
It takes less to fit in and more to stand out and spot the dark corners
Or it takes the same to sing the glory of our own righteousness

Soul-deep how does this sound I sat down to wonder
Feels like a long walk, a loud noise, a silent awakening
Looks like a joyful keel running from head to toe
Smells like simple beans or dried leaves
Runs into valleys and sometimes bottomless pits

Soul-deep how does this sound I sat down to wonder…..

Whispers of Being

Can it be formless, boundless, and limitless
Always trapped between words and spaces
Always trying to contain it when it is as abundant as the sky
We never fail to restrict; when it as to flow with no set patterns
It is explored with set boundaries
It is nurtured with expectations
It is most often crafted to take a definite shape
It is often left loose to scatter and run thin
It is often glorified to the end of our nerves
So it does with vengeance; giving away pain
Do we see it; we all set it to patterns
Patterns that acts as partners or foes
Can it flow like water, feel like air and flash like sky
It will sometime bend your back; with twist and turns
We set it in patterns and dots to take up shapes and forms
An alliance for; happiness, love, lust, companionship, friendship, ties, trails, tribulations
It runs to endless names as long as our mind’s horizon
Can I just let it be, grow, form, re-form at its own will
Will it all run forward-backwards in many tunes
Spikes of glory, heights of ecstasy, valleys of wounds
Bounded-unbounded we will run it anyways

My Old Tamarind Tree

A tree of six heads and endless tales,
The big one stands tall for eternal dance
The rest swings its glory and learn their steps
Morning rises, for us to set march
One by one up the tree
Inching, winching, tip toe and bare feet
Stop reach the tangy highs
Treasure trove of multiple seeds
Stories and expeditions of the six soldiers
O My Old tamarind tree, grandmomma's precious seed
Tall, green like a peacock dance
Filled with stories of ghosts and bravado
My old tamarind tree, waking up to you
In summer time, for tangy highs in our lifetime
We march in victory tip top toe to another morning
Full of mystery and new brown diamonds
My old tamarind tree, to you we surrender our tangy tales
Once in a lifetime, forever etched in our six heads of muddy madness
To our old tamarind tree our holy mate of honor