Tuesday, 30 January 2007

you, nomad

you, painter of rivers
of old dreams &
shadows of wanting,
your brush is dripping & you're
drinking from the glass of
antigravity and wandering

sipping timelessness, blue
and awakened in drunken drownings
you! the traveller of lighted dreams,
hungry & filled with hidden galaxies,
speak divine, goldshowery shaken,
tumbling through time, listening
to sandstorms in your secret oasis of thought
that blow scatterred paradises upon your
shores of leaving & longing
while light is welling out from the shock of ideas

you, juggler of crowns,
windside dancing on desert trains,
speak the dark whispers of broken sunshine
and moonlit questions that linger in between stars and souls -
you meander through bloodstreams and crystalline poems,
fingers slipping into pockets where
conglobate kisses, stored & dried, are sleeping,
and you are left with only your fish and
captured titanics, your jellyfishsongs
and swaying, you, the stone filled
with the echoes of a million lightyears,
filled with seething dewdrops and
the rage of eons, you, tumbling through
the hiccups of freedom with burning eyelashes
and smiling snakes crawling through your bloodstream,
you, the hungry star swallowing eternities,
your sore throat softer
than the inside of your skin, you! you!
you hear the sift of time, the murmur
of the last grain of sand
trickling down your spine,
you eat the ripened word
the sheer aureole of the dance... while in your
deep pockets the suns are alive,
living light between your curled fingertips

you, nomad, wherever you are,
the desert that shifts inside you
is with you, your footsteps
backtracking the drops
of light dripping from your lips
as you milk darkness out of flashes -

as if a spark, dreamed by you,
could ripe in cold and light
a blaze of flaming flames

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