High, Hermit, Hook, Heal

I’ve written it mouthfulls and am yearning for brevity but am liking the start of the process. Hope things will improve with practice and time. The post is again courtesy the kind one I’ve mentioned in the last blog 🙂

The sky falls flat in my feet

as I pluck star after a blazing star;

I blow them cold, so they cannot char

your finger-tips.

Then I take you high,

leaving my ego with the townsfolk.


I lose you somewhere in the ether;

your eyes, kohled with star-dust

turn blind on me.


I’m a hermit,

living another time and space

beyond the din of the earth’s ridicule,

even the reach of your apathy.


Yet, on certain moonless nights

a Polaris keeps me hooked to the fire;

a yearning comes to crush it kohl,

to heal a wound,

to grace a pair of eyes.





The difficulty of hiding

A treasure was revealed

last night, when a thief

tried to steal from the

riches I keep inside

my chest, waking my

eyes from the dreams

of merry-making in the

synthesis of love.

My chase yielded in

the gateways of a soul,

I stole all my wealth from.

Now, I’ll let the love

gleam through my eyes.

No one to hide it from.

We both are the culprits.