Daen Davidson ≈ TWO POEMS

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Painted Roses © Daen Davidson

Painted Roses © Daen Davidson

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AFTER LEAVING PLUTO, VENUS SEEMED

sweet and lost, pluto so clear and logical
though you can never believe, in forever, there
the epileptic moon, throws insults
and venus, takes it all to heart, the poor bitch of
a planet, washing with tears, wet with hysteria

jupitarian lust has profaned her, she has no
war left, no red river, to burn the sand
i am finished, ready to throw in the towel
all this collison with matter, and new atoms

being born thru the saturnian pollution
which overthought rejects, books will torture your brain
needing to get in, and live among the worms, of possiblities

broken veins, still the book demands, demands it lust for truth

as earth, a baby in the solar system
moos in its harbours, rocking the whales
i have hope, in the mist of the quiet whisper

though i am deaf
i will listen, till it is clear
still we will break the mirrors

the halls of history; the hungry ghosts
those born thru death, never free, like a mockingbird

till every young hummingbird
has a chance to voice, its song

01/31/2013

Author’s Note: TRAVEL THE UNIVERSE, PASSENGER OF WONDER

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THE EYES, THE WINDOW-BOX IN HEAVEN’S HIGHRISE

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i try to spend as much time, as i can gather
on the tops floors, where cloud calligraphy
gains momentum, for more brilliance to sprout
in art, in love
though i ain’t a, idealist, i can get my hands dirty
i can recycle at the local drop site, for a clean
future, i am as domestic, as i am wild
in my aspires, eyes wide open, the singing voice
of small birds, the physics of that compliment
that graces the pearly gates, the blue exercise
of a wind dance, on the morning lullabies to sea
and man, relaxes the divine lift of consciousness
that new possibilities are coming in
of course, self responsibility is the hallmark
of getting a miracle to land, on the visions
you call for, in the night’s prayers
everything has a price, though priceless
means everything to a spirit
with eyes wide open, dreaming in realities’
treasures, locked into a cultured bliss
for all, who care, to join, to share

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2 thoughts on “Daen Davidson ≈ TWO POEMS

  1. Phil Mader says:

    “till every young hummingbird
    has a chance to voice, its song”. Very poignant ending, especially after reading how oil oozing out of the ground at Tar Sands is responsible for killing, ie. murdering, a host of creatures.

    THE EYES, THE WINDOW-BOX IN HEAVEN’S HIGHRISE . You gotta love that title.

    • daen says:

      tks mr. mader, i also am on allpoetry.com…making alot of hokku small contest, works the mind, nice european crowd of writers, you know those italians, greeks, etc; they love sum of the fine words for the heart’s juices…love da costa, on t.v. historical
      walks thru art places…a real master of showin’ some of the great places..of which great learning and beauty went down…cheers…your comments, always wanted,
      and honored…making puppets for adult theater at the moment, very big in europe..
      my puppet theaters are basically for over eighty year olds, whole different type of
      individual budding there…take a child and five times that, you get an eighty year old..here, they are not controlled at all….they walk their walk, uninterrupted…as it should be

      i notice the children here, by the ocean, really like to be left alone, children need alot of solitude, to think their thoughts etc…we may over entertain them, really meaning to entertain ourselves…being one, at one time…i totally would disappear
      looking and talking to nature, as children do….

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