happymonk - Tumblr blog

[happymonk]

[happymonk]

the modern graces with tank tops and jeans not naked

like in the past before mass mechanization mass digitization mass desensitisation

but still smiling

[happymonk]

miss you

i miss your warm embrace your delicate light blue eyes in which i tried to close but would not stay shut your loud irascible voice (the same one that cried for help at the end) the way in which youd relish in sunlight shade the wind silence and raven caws you told me once

to think of you whenever I saw a raven and that I had made you feel like you had at least done one thing right in life and how I had taught you that love need not be a volcano but could be a light pink cherry blossom unfurling

I wish I could hold your hand and get a text from you that simply said, hey

but I won’t, not now, not anymore, this morning I was listening to a recording of Bertrand Russell who was asked by Alan Watts, do you think death is just the gradual disintegration of the body and he said, why surely, yes, I see no reason whatsoever that the mind should persist once the body has died…

I just hope

that there’s somewhere nice for the soul to go

[happymonk]

the little boy

addicted to life

to sunshine the moment

something sweet collides

with your mind

the wind is soft today

people work without stress

outside

a bird makes love to the open silence

and the string of instances

woven, slowly but relentlessly

has left the little boy behind

it has left him in a field of

daisies with vast abundant

bright white light

lost, his blue eyes

but we are happy for him

even though we miss him

in our shared moment

in time

[happymonk]

just last week

we were picking

lemons in her

garden

now she is in the arms

of oblivion

billowing outwards

into a starry love

endlessly enveloping

[happymonk]

A Poem

Can I read you a poem?

No.

Why not?

Poems are too deep for me.

What do you mean, too deep?

Well they make me think.

And thinking is difficult to you?

No, but I’d prefer not to do it.

So I can’t read my poem to you?

No. I’d prefer if you didn’t.

But I promise it won’t make you think.

What will it do then?

Make you feel.

January 2012

[happymonk]

Cordoba

Smells of

Oleander

And orange

Blossoms

The flowers

Want to fill the

Sky

They want to share

Their sweet

Green nature

Like completely

And utterly and

With the enthusasiam

Of children running into

The sea

So free

To be

[happymonk]

In the summer

dawn where

Archangels

Fall from rainbows

And rain rises

In quiet nights

The sky is a balcony

Of huge salty seas

The pain is

Clean and makes

Us feel like

We deserve the

Fleeting happiness

Of st sebastian

Caught in the

Crossfire of a bull's

Veracity and a lilac's

Tragedy

[happymonk]

The space

Below stars are not

So different

From the lashes

Of llamas or

The tendrils

Of light that

Falls apart

Into rainbows

As night descends

Onto Earth in a

Great and silent

Pattering awe

[happymonk]

It was like

Sunshine

Incarnate

A day of

Bridges over

Canals

Exotic courtyards

Hot humid

Serenity like

An open pasture

In the woods

Of elysium

Where fauns

Used to play

This place

Of venice

With its

Boats

And cathedrals

And state of overall

Delapidation

It's epic history

Intermixed with

It's tragic impending

Ending

A day of pigeon

Feather infinity

Of white light

On marble slabs

Absence of

Green no gesture

Of nature

Just the most perfect

Human dream

For a place

To blossom and breeze

[happymonk]

The little gay faun

Said he was going back

To ancient Greece before

The invention

Of sin before

Suffering mitagated

Enjoyment like

The year Byron

Spent with shelley

On lake como

Without sunshine

Or mutual

Enjoyment of

Lapiz lazuli

( the glory of

Crowns made

Of olive

Leaves )

[happymonk]

To have a sense

Of lightheartedness

To be silly

Oh lovely

Corazon

Tender little creation

Of mists

Dew

Bubbles

Ephemeral world

Of dusts

Of clouds

Of the amazing

Blissful

Sweet fleeting

Tender emotions

Of the heart

[happymonk]

The sleeping satyr by @happymonk

[happymonk]

as long as you are willing you said to me arranging soft cushions like flowers upon the earth

[happymonk]

Vacation in

The rapids of hay

In the fields of clover

In the arena of stars

Where the deer

Fly like angels

Fireflies speak

Strange exotic

Languages and

Are romantic

Like a blanket

Over kisses

Everything is out of sight

Everything is allowed,

S

I

G

H

S

[happymonk]

Youth is

A flower

It really

believes it

will last forever

It thoroughly

Enjoys the

Wind the

Bees the

Butterflies

It has

No idea

The story

Of sand

Which were

Once mountains

And droplets of rain

Plus time

And endings

[happymonk]

His body an

Unknown garden

Of newly undiscovered

Ecstacies

His voice a

Restful night

Of dreaming

When he touches

The insides of my eyes

With his perfectly shaped

Thighs, his Donatello body,

St sebastian on the cross, sensitive

(but courageous)

it's like a gigantic

Stone thrown into

my as still as a

lake heart