http://slow.writerscafe.org/Suwannee The original writings of author Vishuddha en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776069132 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Lost, in the world   wandering through a wilderness of civilizations   through the mutations of the wind   through the black-and-white radiation of mistakes   standing on our headsSpinning into Kali Yuga Nowhere left to hide   except .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1623819/ What places are thereIn your soulIn your untethered mindWhere you reach outAnd, seek to findThe darkest secrets, boiling black devotionsOf unfettered, evil, willful, wild emotions?What places might there, somewhere, beWhere most minds would refuse to go?Where most eyes would refu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1618337/ When I awoke this morningI found I was a fragile flowerFlagrantPerched on a sunbeam's edgeI am inviting you to treat me, todayAs a special jewelA crystal with a thousand facets and inflectionsA rainbowed dew drop with uncountable reflectionsA holographic fragment containing the ent.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1560525/ It is April and the whisteria's flowers are almost goneOnly a few, lacey, lavender, old maids remainWatching the azaleas fade awaySighing as the dogwood's petals are floating downSettling onto the groundNow is the time of the white flowersMongolia's thick, cool, flesh is wetFiligreed h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1560523/ We are on a magic carpet ride,On an undulating road of cloud,We are sailing through jade jungle halls,Over emerald shade, green light grown walls,Over seashell sparkles and opal streams,Our hair kissed about in the gold sunbeams.'Round towers and torrents of cloud we fly,Our wild spi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1535482/ Walking alone along the road,I thought of poetry and of my dreams.The dust I stirred created dragons,Swarming in the shimmering heat.The dust, descending, turned to sand,And, out of my footsteps, flowers sprang,Fringed with jagged, cutting leaves,And, clothed with seeds that stung my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1530858/ It was long before dawn when we reached the narrow road,And, hand and hand we together went, over the prickled hills.Hand and hand we together went, over the dusty dunes.Down to where the white sand swirled,And, the jagged, coral rocks pretended,They were velvet smooth.The green wave.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1530856/ I have travelled,Backwards and forwards through time,Because my mind is not constrained by reality,My being is not detained by totality,And, my spirit is not contained by the bounds of imagination.Into yesterday, I was carried away,By ceremonies,By censors and veils and incense,Int.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1527388/ I fall in love with youI fall in line with youI dance in my romanceWith youAnd, miracles ensueWe resonate togetherWe become a laserFocused into a single beamLiving in a single dreamWe become a poemWe become as royaltyWe are a totalityYou are my realityI dance in a world m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1525014/ I did not return,To the far Salinas,The desolate salt flats,The white Salinas, Full of phantoms,Wanting to be,Haunting me,The Salinas of ever-restless winds,Forever blowing under my door.At first, I thought I did not return,Because of the bitter taste of the salt in the air,B.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1523868/ I am returningBack, to my desertBack, to my own spaceTo my internal silencesWhere clouds do not lingerOver my headWatching my every moveAnd, the long strands of timeAre spun out of expansion and contractionEnchanted, unable to stay awayI am going back to where nothingExcept m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1523866/ The desert eats up everything including shadows and rainbows eats the bones the thoughts the dreams eats desires and memories eats everything except intensity this it increases with the heated passion of the hysterical laughter of sun strokes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1522730/ Tree, oh, great tree, green tree, bark clothed in eastern shadows of the sky, shadows fallen from on high, fallen out of darkened cloud, spun from sun shine or from moon, and climbing down the afternoon, left hot behind the early dawning, by the mirror of the morning... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1514487/ Tonight is almost a spring night,And, they say the Flute Player is already in town.He has come to stir up the wind,And, to announce the arrival,Of the Circus of Clouds.This is the time I go back to the Everglades,Where the land is just a handful of powdered limestone,Scattered gossam.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1501931/ Call me nomad.Call me wanderer.Call me woman without a home. My home is in my hand. My home is in my heart. My home is in a piece of cloth,Embroidered with a bird.I wander, With the ghosts of the tree, Over the earth's green, neglected bones.I do not fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1495660/ Who was it then?Who told me to write this poem?Already here when I arrived   the dragonfly   with a wingspan as wide as my hand   eyes composed of a thousand facets a thousand questions a thousand answersI imagine she is awake because&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1495132/ Ya never oughtta eat-aThat dreadful aminitaStomach goes a quakein'Heartbeat he's a shakin'Eyelids won't awakenAn' ya body starts a breakin'Ya know that I'm not makin' this stuff up don't raise a cupYa know ya will na need to sighYa know ya will na need to cryAn' I'd.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1492891/ Haiku works for you. But, I'm not oriental. I don't do haiku. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1491889/ I awake and expect the moon to beas silent as alwaysfloating calmly between the cloudsbut tonight she insteadhas fire in her eyeshas painted the flowers violetslashed them with scarlet shadowsfire and bloodshe is laughing with silver cricketsmouth openhair all over the skyche.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1491884/ I would with holi colors paint the clouds that float on high.I would with absinthe paint my garden and my sky,And there, without a thought or care,I would get drunk with Baudelaire.But, nowhere would I go with him. He thinks perfection's never there.I stay at home and brush my hair... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1489981/ Nature always has her way. We used to handle it better http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1489979/ The smoke from a faraway fire     is hunting the edge of my gardenIn this place the singing birds      are waiting for the rain I am listening to the lizard He is reciting his poems He, too, is awaiting the rain The grasshopper has stopped hi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1487573/ Although this world is less than perfect,I am ready to live.I am ready to live,To live,To live to a ripe old age,As long as you let me live it with you.The trail that we are following,Is changing its shape,Changing its shape,And, I am followed by cloud of eyes,The jade waves an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1486704/ I awoke before dawn in the Everglades,And, I asked my god to speak to me.But, if he answered I could not hear,Because the bird’s songs suddenly soared,Louder than the thunder of the rising sun.The purple voices of the broad palmetto leaves,Rose in praise of the new day.The tone.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1486629/ I walk on the edge,With the desert phoenix.The sky is full of light,And, I am tangled up with snakes.I walk in robes of jasmine perfume,In clouds of dreams,With tangled seed pods,Bracelets hung with humming birds,Are twisted 'round my neck.I am going off to visit,The mountain.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1485533/ Heat. Heart. Blood.Biological basis.Support of the visceral body,The one that makes us alive.Blood. Seething.Reeling. Feeling.Blood, feeding,Fueling, ruling.Flooding, flaming.Shaming. Blaming.Red internal wind.Always there to be a friend.Oxygen torches. Scorches. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1484529/ The touchstone has been mislaid.Can't tell if I'm real or not.It is time to look at my blood.It is time to re-play my dreams.I have heard,That the promised word,No longer says what it means.To spores of rocks and marble eggs,How does my birth compare?Nature, it seems, is changi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1481666/ An exercise in the expression of depression, in any season, without any reason. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1481642/ The Everglades do not want us, we who would be kings, would be scientist, would be magicians, mathematicians, or even poets.We are out of place.We are not really welcome here.Only the changelings are welcome, the fairies raised his humans, the humans raised his fairies.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1480498/ Last night I dreamt again of the Everglades.They have become an obsession.I have imbued them with my suffocating adoration and,My overwhelming greed.I feel the romances there, throbbing under the ground,In the green sap of the cypress trees.It is spring again and they are in love with on.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1479596/ I enjoy conversing with stones,Although this isn't as easy as you might think,Because, we have to speak,In a different temporal continuum.We talk about sizes and shapes.We speak of temperature conduction,Molecular construction,And, about internal crystalline geometry.We chat about .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1478152/ Everyone needs illusions.Mine say the clouds are not radioactive,The sea is not filled with mutations,And, starfish do not melt.They say cities do not contain cannibals,Who eat their victims alive.They say psychopaths don't loiter on the street corners,And, not everyone is trying to ea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1478150/ Marvin calls it clanging, I call it rhyme. When words come by to visit me, they're welcome any time. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1476264/ I can smell tomorrow,And the new frontiers ahead,The new horizons in the wind.And who is in control of the wind?Every man who breathes.My preoccupation is with the future,My own and the coming generations.I am not concerned with ease or difficulties.I am busy smelling the heady.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1475730/ I think I might have a tattoo.It is the color of perfume and ashes,With shades of smoke and holograms.It is as cold as intergalactic space.It follows me wherever I go.It is even bigger than I am.It is as big as the sky,It wraps me up in its arms.It was the only way I could change m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1473446/ A eulogy - because, of course, I did. [KuKulKan is the Mayan Winged Serpent God, the god of 2012 fame, to whom the great pyramid at Chichen Itzam is dedicated.] http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1472780/ These are not my words. I have collected them only to say that Nietzsche was a beautiful poet even though he did not write poetry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1472010/ I watch the mangrove's dance in the dark,Graceful hands of green, wax leaves, feet of rough gray bark.I hear the waves beneath them, play a merry, rippled tune.It was written on the night sky, by the white stars and the moon.I smell the jasmine floating perfume, hear night-purple flowers c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1471307/ These are the failures of man without a purpose - nothing in life worthwhile beyond pleasing themselves. The family broken by misconceptions of the nature of man and wife, a society seeking always for what is bigger than life and luring the young with a million fantasies beyond the power of any pare.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1469831/ The great, fat, scarab beetle,Is rolling through the desert.She imagines that her faience self,Is burning in the sun;Burning in the clamour,Burning in the blue,Of ancient Pharaoh's painted eye,In stones, and bones of sealed up tombs,In jewels, and jars and sealed up rooms,In winds .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1469617/ We went into the garden,To plant a seed,And, watch it grow.But, then I found,That someone else,Was walking in the garden.Someone was there.I could not see.And, evil never dies.There are voices in the garden now,Voices without faces,Voices whispering,Whispering,To the in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1469105/ Light against the sandbar.Cast your fisher net.Catch mermaid's curls and floating pearls,And images of heaven.The soothing palms are holding,One another's hands,Sheltering weeds and dragon's seeds,And images of heaven.A single moment of soaring flight,The rise of a graceful bir.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1468870/ I was born a hermit,Born out of place,Born out of time.My thoughts keep to themselves,And, I live my life as a recluse.I would live my life like a poem,Because I am a dreamer,And, I live in blue moonlight,With gossamer wings.If I had my way,My sky would be full of songs,And, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1467900/ Nietzsche's announcement "God is Dead" was a bit premature but, we finally got here. You can't escape current events. But, more important, you can't escape the great, underlying realities of life. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1467519/ I remember the Muses lived once,In another age, in the long ago,In the far-away, by the wine dark sea,Where the purple waves broke merrily,On the edge of a once-upon-a-time land,Where the waves washed up on the Grecian sand.I would have liked, to have been in that land,To have stood .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1467396/ I do not need a miracle.I have a dragonfly,With multi faceted eyes and a wingspan as wide as my hand,Who has whispered the secrets of the moon into my ear.I have a yellow leaf,Who has danced for me as beautifully as a butterfly,And, brought a golden sunset to me when she landed in my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1467300/ When I was a child,I wrote words on the wind,On dew drops,And, on sundance,And, I laughed,When I saw them blow away.But, today,I write on rounded river rocks,That have endured the ages,Half sunk into the sand,Into the garden grass,Into the soil of the sacred cemetery,Too heav.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1465839/ With apologies to Herman Hess - The title was too intriguing. I couldn't help myself. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1465413/ "What is it that keeps you alive?" they ask."It is ambition," I reply.But, perhaps I am wrong.Perhaps it is curiosity or sensuality.Perhaps it is reverence and awe.Perhaps it is selfishness or love.Perhaps it is because,I have discovered that I am the center of the universe.Perhaps i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1465408/ I have decided.I want this life to leave a scar.I want something permanent.Something to remember.Something I can take with me.Something, slash and dash, that cuts right to the bone,And, doesn't let go.Something that, sooner or later, will turn into a birth mark.A scar is not about .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Suwannee/1464773/