Pickle Jar Karma

Pickle Jar Karma

Today I’ll sit right in the middle of it,

in the thick, dense, lush bustle of love.

It does not do me any good

to exist on the periphery of this one.

Feel the pulse of my heart beat

as it runs through your finger tips

and turns your lips the richest mix

of red and pink. Forget all future things;

now is for sinking into our spirits,

the way yours sparkles through your eyes

and I’ve lost all doubt in universal signs,

spellbound in this spotlight for as long as it shines.

You’ve conjured up an aura that preoccupies my mind

with fascination for how the chapters in our stories

might use the time these bodies

find themselves writing the same lines

on the same side of the page.

Marici

Marici

Once,

twice,

three times.

This canvas

delicately painted with waves of craving

that crash before we reach the shore,

with sand warm against my bare back,

Your face shielding my gaze from the glaring sun,

a showcase of your freckled skin,

traced with raised edges

where I dug my nails in.

Sunday’s sin can be forgiven

when it was neither seen nor heard

but spoken in tongues.

You want to know,

you want me to teach you

the ways of my God

like how this beach becomes one with the sea,

but my God doesn’t obey the prayers

formed between a man’s clasped hands,

first he must dare to get his feet wet.

Paramitas

Paramitas

The tide continues its motion
lapping the broken shores in a peaceful sigh of relief
after holding its breath for so long.

You recall the beach by your childhood home
spending hours pondering what treasures lay
on other shores
how desperately you wanted to believe
in a world away from those bricks and walls
which built that house and then trapped you inside it.

You recall the beaches in foreign countries
you had the honour of gracing.
How you remembered that first beach
and realised you had made it.
You are still making it.

No matter where you are in the world
the water always finds its way to you.
It endures the earth’s currents
to reach the ground your feet are stood upon.
It’s about the long fight.
And if the ocean can find a way to touch you
and at every opportunity longs to dip your feet in its brilliance
you can get out of bed and exist today.