English Poetry by Diana Thoresen from St Petersburg, Russia

 

Hamsavāhini

Striations of countless lunations
Dissolve my crimson heart in hot springs

And the liquid light of angel wings
I am the golden obsidian sheen of flowing rivers

And black cockatoo feathers with Chamunda eyes
I am hydrated with melodious sulfate light

My dreams are beautiful snow white ribbons
Opaque or tranclucent

I've stolen the primordial goose of
The white-robed Saraswati

Countless books are written in
A mala of radiant selenite crystals

My still ponds shine like moons in the autumn sky
A white cockatoo threw himself against

A window pane in a sacrificial puja
The dazzling white sun is falling like Phaeton

Marvellous Magenta Kunzite

Psyche's heart is a marvellous magenta kunzite
I tried to flee her rosy radiance
Because while I was traveling in the starry realms of Hypnos
Love spilled a black toad on my bow and arrows

I sought a distorted reflection of my soul in the viperous moon light
Selene grimaced
I was lost in a forest of Dali-esque melting clocks
Each mirror reflected my own jackal mask

I saw a glimmer of my heavenly twin
In the green harmony of a water lily pond
Echo got swallowed by a mountain like Sita
Hanuman silenced the noise of the world with his golden mace

The world turned another page, I froze, I became a blue ray
I found myself in the snowy abode of Lord Shiva
Four holy rivers flew from every corner of the earth
The heart of Mt Kailash was a marvellous magenta kunzite

Theogony

God is hidden in the chaos of mathematics

God was spilling out of the teacher's white chalk
On my abyssal school blackboard

Extract me a root of Capella's golden citrine light
Did Auriga ever shine on that god-saturated blackboard?

Hush, rainforest frogs
Hush, you glistening ophidian tricksters

We're brewing gods in a Presocratic cauldron
Hesiod and Homer told me

There must be a god in my paracetamol pill
Ionian sages, whisper to me as I gaze at the Goat Star

Because I don't like your gnomon

Marking the passage of my days like a Campbell soup logo
Erase this horrid red cursive along with cause and effect

I'm flying in a timeless high chariot with Minerva's serpents
Behind my shield

I'm flying straight into
The lodestone of the rising red sun

The prudence of black and white chariot horses
Returned me into the origin of myself

Gods may live on as skittish goats and capricious clouds

Aflame with citrine light

Meritaten and Meketaten

(For Patrick Zeigler. Thank you for birthing my heart)

Does one miss the sea after all?
Now that you were all flesh and bone
...finely woven from the Sun...
Swooning westward each day

Did silky onions gleam in the moonlight at Amarna?
Did Maat pierce your rib cage with each sunrise?
Did a Libyan glass scarab blaze like a rod of flame?

The desert rain listened in on your trances
A cauldron of diamond light inside your fortress city
Funny princesses -- you were so artistically caged

Did you ever come back from the Milky Way to finally
Sink under the ocean waves, that dear old starry soup?
A Maldives holiday? No? What about Florida?
Or go for lonely walks in some world city and
Sit down with a cappuccino, incognito of course
While listening to a fountain nymph
Anonymity at last: what a celestial life
Every gentle oak dryad still recognizes your rank

What of crystal tipped obelisks and limestone temples?
Such things wash off
Like malachite eye shadow
Or white sand from the beach
Life washes off

Wesak Full Moon and Aldebaran

I dreamed I was flying between the horns of Taurus
Cold and forlorn in a senseless starry abyss

I was seeking the red hermitage of Aldebaran most desperately

Amidst the desert of neutrinos, protons, black holes
Finally terrible cosmic darkness gave way to warm light
Bright by their birthright and sanctifying

The Pleiades must have been guiding the way
The Seven Rishis of the Great Bear are still

The living anamnesis of the starry Time Mother
The accursed Earth wheel is still spinning
I am weaving light from red hibiscus flowers

It is Minerva's work

Buddha's diamond light from yesterday
Is still pouring forth in every crystal

Deep within the earth
The Invisible Ashram is adorned with sentinel lights

And fires of the Lamb's Victory

Alexandrite Fires

I'm lost in a glass menagerie of
Rainforest spirals
Sunlight strikes the chiaroscuro
Canvas of figs
And everything explodes with
Alexandrite
Fires of green profusion
Djed pillars of enormous
Trees rise inside my spine
Blue butterflies
Pollenate my eyes till
They rot on the damp ground
A green tree frog gives me
Her tomato eyes
Now I shine like a jaguar

English poetry by Josephine Grace Sta.Ana Baliling from Cambodia

 

“Silent War’’

I was staring at my mirror while my demons are sleeping

The moment I closed my eyes I saw someone caressing them gently

When I was alone I can hear them giggling

Their voices are like a lullaby playing in my head

When I found out that one of them is dead

Everything is moving slowly

I am like a snake wishing to fly

And have a rem sleep in the sky.

 

“For The”

Thy art of self-love and compassion

In this mortal cruel world

For kindness may remain

Nor I’m a little illiterate

For beauty and passion be the weapon

Seeking worthy and belongingness

For originality and taste will last

Truth might be the unknown.