Tinu in Soul and Memory painting - Click for larger image.

we are sitting on a conjunction,
you…
…… i….
conjugating the world between us to
our likeness as best we can

we pause/knowing
there is only so far we can go
yellow traffic lights are our emblem.

also…

we creep towards bliss
slide as languidly as possible
in the direction of kiss
not wanting to destroy
chances to create

knowing
we may have been too late to taste
the wonders in each other
the twine of matrimonied lovers one far day
so we stay
transfixed to this
transition….

too….

we invent a space
to live
a home in each other’s hearts
neither friend only
nor lover yet
simply love unexamined or debated
adoration demonstrated
on page’s words
to be one day heard
in verse of song
or
lifted out of souls that long
to recall each other.

but differently.
for this is no re-run of near past, no.
our world is a stage where the same players
repeat similiar dances through ages immemorial
our ancestral memory is shared
choreographed fight with fate
repaired
i sit in quiet recollection
of eyes that used to drink me
on quiet nights deep in the delta of the Niger
showing me
how love is supposed to be
how real men love unafraid in this world

let the world-bound dispute
our shared remembrance…
spirit’s knowledge overrules…

in addition….

mortal realms eventually interrupt
our silent reflection of day’s past
forcing us to look upon today again
where we do not know where our heart’s embrace will lead
where my vision of carrying your seed is invalidated
where your declarations of me as lovely are
ignorant of the fact that
your beholding eye
is what makes me the precious night flower of the universe
and your reflection is
what gives any pre-existing beauty of mine
wings
to fly into your heart.

furthermore…

the summation of all these realities
cannot combat the fact that we must wait
for life to unfold to us an opening
if there is to be one
wide enough for us to walk through together…
or painfully drop hands and pass through life apart.

the irony is that
these precious moments you have given me
these possibilities you have shown of what adoration can mean
these bilssful moments, short as they may be
were given with your love
and if i need to be sustained into the next world
i dont know if i fill you likewise
but for me…..
any secret seconds we share are enough….

still i hope for the chance to repay the golden era of rebirth you ignited in my life
in a future where one day our lives will move beyond this stop sign
and destiny will reward our patience
with the chance for us to….. one day…..
finish falling in love

Tinu in Soul and Memory painting - Click for larger image.

i seek water
from the bottom of my soul

they were bringing me over
i sat silent at the bottom of a womb’s dream
it called me forth into the darkness
come it said
pointing me towards a small dot of light.
majestic primordial sound
oozing beams of celestial’s caress
dancing
spinning
into the dark of me
skin with gold undertones to make me free
they touch their amber hands to me
i… remember..

i seek water
from the bottom
of my soul

it was their hands that charmed me.
disarmed by the graceful long fingers of silver fire
tracing tears drops in a clear glass of ice
sliding down my throat in perfection
as i stifled grief
and tried to bring forth the God in me
She crept silently into my awakening
He lived loudly in the sleeping crowd of me
here they said
these are why you were born
and they lay crystal visions.
i saw his face, prophetic.
there is purple painted across
my dreams of him.
i … recall

i seek water
from the bottom
of my soul

will i be nourished?
can i be fed on what i am?
can i drink deliverance made from myself?
did the spirits lead me here only to die?
was the fire inside a lie?
who
who will fill my cup
if not i?
i will sing him my spirit
and have him live
even if it means i give my life for his.
i’m hoping the gates will open to us both
together
that much later the doors will open
that much sooner we will dance together
that his care means i can now satisfy the hunger
his nourishment has stroked to a famine within me
but i remain grateful for the hunger
and i hope to quench his thirst.
i…. recollect…

i seek water
from the bottom
of my soul

the pool of me is drawn
cups runneth slower
please.
of me there must be sufficient
of me i am sufficient
of me there will be a flowing river
that quenches my mortality
and buoys my spirit up
he will rise within me
rise
i
am beyond a need to fill myself
up with myself
i want to end his hunger
but all i have is water
i want to replenish
find my center
but the liquid drips down
relocating my middle
shifting always shifting
missing me and mixing me with
shot snifters half full of a cold forever.
i want to be eternal
and envelop us both with love.
mine for me
ours for him
this for us.
will it be
and if so
will it be enough?
i … am reminded…

i
seek
water
from the
bottom
of
my
soul
i seek water
from the bottom of my soul
i seek water from the bottom of my soul
iseekwaterfromthebottom
ofmysoul
water
from the bottom
of my soul
come to me
water
from the bottom
of my soul
water my soul
water his soul
water is my soul
soul cold water on my soul
make us whole.
make us
a
whole.
make me whole.

Tinu in Soul and Memory painting - Click for larger image.

i wonder
if he lay across the floor…
was i imagined in his fingertips
did he
lay me across the floor
in his mind
scribing with color?

was i his imagination?
did i haunt ….or pester?
did i lurk …….or fester?
did he have to get me out or
did he need to make me live?
this
apparition of his….

it was what he intended
of me in his mental realm
where thoughts live and breathe like
light dancing with shadow
candlelit…

was i a whisper or a shout?
did i call him or
did he come to me willingly?
was he aware or was this
unconsciously?
was i a voice of song held inside him
or a whine trying to escape?

the she he made me….
she… contemplates
sharing many parts of my face
not made up of my mirror
but close enough to be mistaken.

some facts are exact.
my eyes
my skin
same expression

some clues are close
similar lips.
i have a shirt like that.
my hair was about that length
at about that time

i wonder
was it a picture of me
or a memory of my rhyme
that made him swirl colors
and bless them into art
when we were apart….
what
drew him in to draw a whisper of me?
will she be who i come to be?

i wonder…..
as i thank him
repeatedly
and
silently….

Tinu in Soul and Memory painting - Click for larger image.

That is the picture in question from the last post. I wrote three poems about this, because I was amazed that someone could create a likeness of me so accurately without having seen me before. Perhaps they can go up tomorrow – right now I have to sleep.

I even have a blouse like the one depicted. I wish I had the painting, if I ever catch up with this friend of mine again, I’m planning to take him up on his offer to send it to me.