Nirvana

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There are no boundaries
in this cosmic kaleidoscope –
only limitless expression
to be experienced
on every level
and through all realms
of space and time.

Emptied of distractions –
to rely on inner focus,
instead of eyes
to listen with heart,
instead of ears.

This place is… just is.

We are the masters of our journey
to complete synchronicity
where no other
may navigate on our behalf.

Here, we reclaim and become sum…

having nothing –
yet having everything.

© Roxi St. Clair

The Raven’s Lair

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From the nightmare ere the last,
locked within the shadows cast,
unfathomed are the reasons why,
he who glares and lingers nigh.
His eyes obsidian, fixed on me,
in pensive thought, so silently.
He’s a mystery cloaked in night,
from betwixt the dark and light.
“Oh! What secret dar’st he keep?”
Asks the poet deprived of sleep!
The key to this lives e’er there,
buried beneath the raven’s lair!

© Roxi St. Clair

Spare Change

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Nobody sees us two, I know
our world, weighed with woe
people walk by turned face
our lives not worth a trace
not always seeing our pain
our hearts, a scarlet stain
whatever our crimes may be
I only ask you stop and see
life battering a dog and man
more than we thought it can
wondering, what went wrong
homeless, cold, for how long?
Life, once sweet, simplicity
barely survive, now, futile be
asking modest comfort blest
spare change to eat and rest
beneath some blankets might
warm a man and dog tonight.

© Roxi St. Clair

Paper Dolls

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Playing dress up and pretend,
cutting out a new best friend
folded twice, and then thirds
missing mouths spill no words
paper fibers weave and tether
hands that are bound together.

© Roxi St. Clair

Violin

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Play me…
for I am the strings
that tremble under your
bow. I am the crescendo
that swells and the
aching vibrato
that drops
off the
end of
each
note.
In the
quietly
delicious
pause before
the notes rise
and rise again
I’m the sweet
melancholic
stroke, just
one octave
above
bliss
with
pitches
high and
purring lows.
I am the words
that can’t speak
but only through
your hovering
touch do I
even have
a voice.
I’m the
ardor
lifted
until my
song at last
released in ebbs
and flow as my tears
surrender with every
reverberant cadenza.
You’re my virtuoso
that plays with
euphoric burn
and passion
yearning
with
each
low
and
fragile
tone, you
kindle and
play upon my
tender strings.
I was tuneless
in dusty neglect
until you lovingly
removed me from my
case and raised me up.
Now cradled in the hollow
of your heart, lift me
to your chin… and
play me.

© Roxi St. Clair

Sometimes When It Rains

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When everyone flees in clamor to shelter dry
only the birds take wing despite pouring rain;
vibrant tones, droplets upon the windowpane
are far sweeter to me, than sun-drenched sky.

Sometimes when it rains,
I am the bird.

© Roxi St. Clair

Doggy Pop Art

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It’s another cold and rainy day here in Oregon! Heck, it’s been raining for a few days now and more to come as per the forecast… because… it’s Oregon! It was a stay indoors kind of day with my two dogs Yoda & Chili here next to me. Since I can’t see any color outdoors for the exception of the grey sky… I created some ‘color’ with my digital art programs and my furbabies were my subjects. 🙂

Moonstruck

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Unfinished watercolor,
a masterpiece framed
and silently hangs –
brilliant æther
haloed orb
blemished
by ancient
chasms,
and stars
surround her
like fire opals —
their hyperborean
trajectories dart
and dissects twilight
in this cosmic gallery
knowing from here,
I am but a speck
when viewed
from there.

© Roxi St. Clair