Fruitage – Heather Mirassou

The moonlight is topaz

A light that is insatiable

The fruitage an acidulous gold

Full to the brim

A quencher

Droplets alive

Of perfumed fruit

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Circus – Heather Mirassou

In a circus

A hurricane designed

By a drunken god

Extravagant hearts

Blow up again

In a rampage

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Azure Rain – Heather Mirassou

Azure colored rain

And the fragments

Whirl like a feather

A weather vane

While the angels applaud

Daring and debonair

I invade

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Through the Looking Glass – Heather Mirassou

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My past is but a dream. My present an insatiable appetite for life. My future pre-determined and out of sight.

Oh but to be young again, to begin again, to find me again. Who would I aspire to be?

Through the looking-glass, I see a mirror image of me. Free to be who I am with no preconceptions, expectations or promises to keep. Only a silent treasure chest of dreams only I can see. Only a panoramic view of what is the best I can be.

Perhaps, I would fly overseas and travel countries in poverty, recording adversity and atrocities.

Perhaps, I would study the stars and galaxies.

Perhaps, I would march in pride and diversity.

Perhaps, I would study archeology, geology or history.

Perhaps, I would be Simon or Garfunkel in Central Park in New York City.

Perhaps, I would sail alone on the open seas.

Perhaps, I would visit my native France and Italy.

A dream is a dream, but through the looking-glass I can see and be the best of what has made me.

I will continue to record life, love, and history through my poetry. My self-made dreams connecting in this irony.

Dedicated to: Trevor Edmund Mirassou and Brandon Timothy Borden, my sons.

 

 

 

 

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A Journal Entry from 1985 – when I was just 18 years old. “In Definition” by Heather Mirassou

The temptations of life. Not knowing a yes or a no. Experiencing new feelings and ideas which circulate in our minds. Unsure of what to do. Questions which have gone unanswered. The consequence of doing wrong. The pride and joy of doing right. Why do we have to choose? Friends, lovers, and enemies learning to live and cope with each. Tears and laughter. Opposites that can be joined. Rebelling, an action only those who rebel know what the definition is. Why do we live in a world of definitions? There are so many decisions to make the effect of indecision. To live we must give humbly, ask kindly, respect all and most of all fill the world with love.

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Today February 2, 2016

Just today I put on my hearing aids and was hypnotized by the sight and sounds of the earth. I heard black birds mating calls, I heard a dribbling creek, I heard my mom call my name, I could hear her laughter. I could see like I could hear. Everything so crisp and clear. The clouds like a family of Pillsbury dough-boy’s, the cascading, hungry hawk searching for prey. The smile in my husband’s eyes.

I will recall what it felt like to be alive. To feel connected to something bigger than me. Something so unique and amazing that I don’t forget to smell the roses. To be brave and kind and rewind. Engrave the world in my mind. To feel connected mind, body and spirit is essential to my survival.

It’s time to get out of this shell, reach out and connect with the world again.

With a Smile,

Heather

 

 

 

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Open Up You Rain -Heather Mirassou

Open up you rain
The summer is sweet thickened mud
My knees are bowed
Beneath the broken wind
Heaven rises
Kicking the giant fallen sun
Open up you rain
The summer is sweet thickened mud

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Eventide – Heather Mirassou

As the Earth hangs unstrung
The sun begins to weep
The wandering outline of the sky
Is slackened into a fountain
Fading into eventide

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Nocturnal – Heather Mirassou

The forest is dark
by night it’s been swallowed
all things mysterious
all sounds hallowed.

Nature’s nocturnal
all life’s gathered here
although all movements are ghostly
there is nothing to fear out here.

Dark mythical arms
hide the moon
dawn will be arriving
but never too soon.

Crickets shrill
and interrupt the night air
owls cry and make harmony
nature is so romantic in the air.

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Tap-Dance – Heather Mirassou

I tap-dance on egg-shells in my ballet shoes.

They whisper across the floor.

Omitting noise that might entice a temper.

I find a hide-a-way in a hole.

My heart, soul, and pen are

controlling the inner-chaos

with a key that empowers me.

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Boundaries – Heather Mirassou

My dying spirit

Spirals out of control

Working my bloody

Body to the bone

You ask too much too bare

I resent you for lying in despair

Balance does not exist

Only terror on the edge

A vicious wrath begins

As my rage causes lapses

Of memory and judgement

Pieces of boundaries

Lay on the floor

My apologies and amends begin

Until again

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Guys and Dolls – Heather Mirassou

When marionettes are dancing and prancing,

voracious appetites are searching.

Tumbling, fumbling and mumbling.

Blackouts imminent, guilty pleasures abide,

pick-up artists catch befallen angels and

pick up the pieces as morning arrives.

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Desire – Heather Mirassou

Wonder amorously
Blood brimming
Wilderness vessel
Every droplet wet
Chaste with soul
Hips become fierce
Thighs become fiery
Thrusting,pumping and springing
Chasms burst
Your glorious spring cascades

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Melodies – Heather Mirassou

Embroidered ivory mountains

flowing tipped waterfalls

and melodious violet fields.

A thousand madrigals

and fragrant Myrtle groves.

The rivers and streams

sing sweet rapture

symphonies.

As the celestial hidden skies

hover Venus charms

aquivering goddess sighs.

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Descent – Heather Mirassou

How

dare mutest thee

heaven’s sanctity.

Now them hast

deep spirits

quickening breath.

A vision childless

breaking virtues

angel’s slumber

in death.

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Journal Entry – Heather Mirassou

And my tears became water brooks…

 

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What Is A Soul To Do? – Heather Mirassou

What is a soul to do
when it’s conflicted and confused?

What is a soul to do
When it’s hidden and suffering thru?

What is a soul to do
when it rebels against the truth?

What is a soul to do
when it’s twisted in two?

Pour, pour, and pour out
your soul.

That is what a soul should do.

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Quote by Rumi

“Poetry can be dangerous, especially beautiful poetry, because

it gives the illusion of having had the experience without actually going through it”. ― Rumi

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Journal Entry – Heather Mirassou

“I stray from my beloved pens and paper hoping

it is only a momentary lapse. I wait in solitary,

until I can once again chronicle human

nature with color, tone and transparency”.

 

 

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Under The Moonlight – Heather Mirassou

The aqueous moonlight

floats from heaven

Sober hues and a tender wind

crisscross the sky

A hazel mist melts the faint dew

below the sleeping willow tree

The murmuring water lilies

awaken the egantine

While my white eyes are lulled

under a topaz canopy

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Hiroshima Sky – Heather Mirassou

A bare rainbow

rains acid glass

from a Hiroshima sky

a thousand galaxies collide

in a demonic sky

where the innocent

dreadfully die

 

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Delight – Heather Mirassou

I see naked droplets

of subtle honey bee.

Love released beyond

our summer lending trees.

Beyond a breeze

glow-worm light shines bright.

Love wheel delight

for the stars are giddy tonight.

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Young Bliss – Heather Mirassou

Young bliss

a fragrant kiss.

Lips slumber

eyes agaze.

Arms aflame

damp passion.

Enmeshed in desire

bloomed within.

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A Girl – Heather Mirassou

Her lips like ruby pearl

as soft as a silk sheet.

Her mouth like blush candy

as sweet as a cherry treat.

Her breasts like buttermilk

as delicious as whipped cream.

Her hair a lucent gold

like heaven’s falling leaves.

Her heart like a mirror to

her soul as to the sea.

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I Am Wakeful – Heather Mirassou

In the wee hours
I am wakeful
When clouds are nesting
And the wind is thrusting
Carnival wildflowers glow

Twinkling in painted fields
A moon overflowed
And the rain begins to rouse
I rise in a dream
Where my spirits soar
I faintly kiss the stream

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