Autumn - by Tisha

Darkness falls, each evening..

Your image appears in my mind

in the dwindling light;
in delicious feelings of elation,
or in painful loneliness.

The sky painted in bright colours,
temporarily brightens my spirits,
but night falls without fail;
quiet, dark, sober,
covering my soul

with blankets of October.

The nights are longer,

the days shorter.

Trees are orange and gold,

preparing for the long, dark cold.

But I search your beloved image,

to fill my soul with joyous delight.

I imagine...

Your presence;

the aroma of your skin;

your voice in tender refrain;

your tender touch;

your sensual lips

in kisses divine,

like precious, mature wine.

Come to me , my love,

fulfill my deep desire,

embrace my soul

with the music of your being,

in perfect harmony.

Photo by Tisha

Olhos de âmbar - by Tisha

Os teus olhos de âmbar transparentes,
calmos como um rio de águas tranquilas.
Cor de mel e canela é a tua pele
veludo macio, delicioso ao paladar.
Aromas de jasmim e baunilha
é o teu cheiro, de bergamo e sândalo.
Os teus dentes, magnólias brancas,
formas brilhantes em marfim.
Licor da cereja pálida os teus lábios,
destilam desejo, promessas raras.
Formoso o teu corpo esculpido,
harmonia suave orquestrado.
Mas, ai... os teus lindos olhos,
os teus olhos de âmbar,
criadores de sonhos distantes.

XCVII - Sonetos de Amor - Pablo Neruda

É preciso voar neste tempo, para onde?

Sem asas, sem avião, voar sem dúvida:

já os passos passaram sem remédio,

não levantaram os pés do viajante.

É preciso voar a cada instante como

as águias, as moscas e os dias,

é preciso vencer os olhos de Saturno

e implantar ali novos sinos.

Já não bastam sapatos nem caminhos,

já não serve a terra aos errantes,

as raízes já atravessaram a noite,

e tu aparecerás em outra estrela

decididamente transitória,

em papoila convertida.

Photo by Tisha

In memory of Pablo Neruda, who was born on the 12th of July 1904, in the town of Parral, Chile. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature 1971.

African Thunderstorm - Perpetuum Jazzile

Toto's Africa magnificently sung by Perpetuum Jazzile October 2008 at Vokal Xtravaganzza

Alícia in a Warsaw Park

Sickle Moon - by Tisha

Low on the horizon, 
only a sliver of light
painting the sky in tones 
of black and white
the city apparently fast asleep 
at first sight
the cobbled stones silent witnesses 
to my plight,
Echoing the emptiness 
I feel tonight

Searching for you, 
always just out of reach,
I ask myself: 
Is feeling lost only just a figure of speech?
Or am I simply driftwood 
on a deserted beach?
rejected by the sea 
like an empty bottle of liquid bleach?

Admitting to the deep-set burning desire
that could so easily simply mis-fire
ready to explode like artillery fire
my sanity balancing on a high-strung wire

Oh sickle moon, 
without any offence,
Disregarding all disciplne 
and commonsense
help me find an effective self-defense
for my mental healing to commence
the quest for understanding 
is immense.

Photo by Tisha