words are lying down as
long night shadows
along hardened snowdrifts
the train we're on is moving
across a beautiful landscape
of words and weed
on cold rails
along which only a wind
and our thoughts dare to wander
Wednesday, 31 January 2007
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
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
Monday, 29 January 2007
breakers
i call i call
into the waters of this
rolling tide
i call out loud
i call out wide
i call the divers out of sea
i call
i call them back to me
the arctic divers hooded
as dark-winged crying gulls
at night
at night in
crumbling dreams of time
unfolding behind curtains
of waves that whisper
silver to the sky
i call
i call into the wall
of the heaving tide
the moon the moon
i dream the moon
on wounded waters stained
with jewels
moonfluid
glittering through
the crashing arches
of falling waves
littering the beach with
crazy human breakers
Thursday, 25 January 2007
wild sunsets
open doors or open minds
flying free
as if my eye had opened
in a bird's wing
as if a light wind
could wave with a gesture
larger than life
towards things that pass
almost unseen
as if the moon
circled inside me
and not even tide
with its ancient breath
could keep me apart
from the sky
forever
as if
i flew free
as if my eye had opened
in a bird's wing
as if a light wind
could wave with a gesture
larger than life
towards things that pass
almost unseen
as if the moon
circled inside me
and not even tide
with its ancient breath
could keep me apart
from the sky
forever
as if
i flew free
Wednesday, 24 January 2007
rhapsody
sound of silence
clarinet sound
song of passion
song of passion
gershwin on my mind
rhapsody session
filling me today
can't let it go, can't
let it fade
away
Tuesday, 23 January 2007
like clouds we float
Sunday, 21 January 2007
smile
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