Kaizen 

The autumnal Bliss
Collecting paper flowers
A marlboro bough 
Cherry blossoms in a night travelled road
Dark like night sheets 
Rooted deeply in parks 
Funeral coats are funny 
Dusts to dusts 
While counting each moments
Loose ends
Piano players are happiest
Yeats was right
So were Poets 
Fool's paradise
Dark rhythms I conceive you
My Muse of torpedo blue 
Little Bluebird of my chainmail desks
My autumnal pinings 
La Vie en rose 
Gold hearts get noticed
Poets are happiest
In a sense 
Paradise eden 
Lean in art's bosom. 
I summon my Autumn. 

Roses

The roses of July
Are so pretty
A pretty good problem
To be 
This beautiful
Insanely fragile
Yet beautiful
Helen's face I can see 
Roses in July
Just so pretty
Beautiful, a maiden robed 
Our own reflections. 

Divine Plan

Heaven's fiery ash 
My new found isle of Poppies
 Little big enough 
For a magic maker 
A big believer, A winner 
The earthly paradise of 
Golden paradigm 
My heavenly fire of sea scapes 
The Supernatural benused art 
We call her a religion
A religious art 
Divinely separated truly for the best 
She's our heaven 
A little butterfly
A  white tale 
No She's a divine plan
Rightly suited. 

Peace.

For Peace comes slow
A sudden birth 
Unexpected win 
Balms your soul
A royal blue impish touch 
Sometimes
A hurricane 
It just
Soothes
For Peace comes slowly
More difficult
Than Love
Loving One 
Each breathing 
Each Eyelashes
It is private
A fine jewel
Must be hidden 
Kept 
Under your shirt 
For peace is precious
Than Love 
Itself. 

Pink

I have heard Paris is beautiful in May
Two lost cards that find
A perfect geometric strength
It then carves a niche 
Mon Amor it says that always says 
Pink is loveliest of all
Beautiful Strange Goodness
Colours have their own homes too
Just as my paper knife 
A little too pink for it 
Isn't so? 
A child may notice
Children notice everything
A change in smile
They are the big apples 
Do this do that 
We are grown ups 
Still pink is loveliest of all
Home Goodness Flowers 
I still think Paris is most beautiful in May 
The ribboned dress 
The little paper towns 
They all go to a merry go round
All pinkish flame in the snowbound home
I still love Pink
My home my mon amor. 

Universal

Tabloids on the east side 
I keep looking at the mirror
It knows
How things work
The atoms of the human soul
An incense of intention
It keeps buzzing 
In my head 
The heads and tails of things 
A silvery paws 
Un femme 
A Red Cross on my bosom 
Innuendos everywhere
It touches with God's mysteries
I keep chanting Him
The unnameable divine light
Above heads
The mirror knows
How things work
A silver spoon
Uni verse. 

White

The morning June
Everything is White
I smell of fresh Roses. 
Jasmine white lotus
That bloom in jannah
Everything pours in 
Angelic substances
White sepulchral lights
Divine madness
Angelic frequency
June is my very existence
Green then white
Blue then oblivion
The morning is pure 
A white lotus
I smell of fresh Roses