A Mirror Floating in Water

Some poems I've been working on. Enjoy.

Let's start with one from out of the past. This one was written after I had broken up with my girlfriend. *Drama!*

I vouch in my carnal tracks, in that life I
Fade with the glowing sun and mournful sky
In that I am in a sphere of endless
Days and nights, alone. I would have thought less.
These pages cruelly liken'd to my love.


Now, as you can see in the following, I've been having some fun with form.

A word is a word until it means it
Away not is no, yes and
So, say do-dah
No and Yes
I told you so

It means it until word a is word a
And yes, no is not away
Dah-do say, so
Yes and no
So you told I?


Another untitled one:


we dreamt and dreamt in stars and sky
staggering drunkedly in midnight light
crawling like spiders upon the rye

not like a brick we walked in tight
we surfaced the paved street as with no feet
i stepped forward and sunk out from the night

empty bare street
thick horny beat
i touch concrete

and now, now we shall eat
take the subway
and sit in our seats

hangover cliche
i had come up to the guy from sociology staggering
and said I was gay

metallic ting
crunching away
waiting for the coming of spring

and at the sun, I looked and it was gay
as I looked past and beyond the Bay



The First Signs of Frost

My son art thou to write a face unto
The pillars of a dream forgot? as to her
I say that my forgetful love hath threw
Her ruins and sickled o'er dry tubers.
She hath cleansed the tide and sweet melody
within its sweet tune and time. Never
Shall the tide wash up upon sand's grody
Carcass and sweep the winds morever.

The Tao that can
be told,
has not been
told
the name
e
.


And to end it all, a French poem (yes my French is amateur, but native-speakers do forgive). Translation provided below

L'Age d'Or

Les vents de chutes, porter des feuilles vers la mélancolie.
La saison est payée dans la perte, l'apathie,
Comme les arbres coulent de leurs fondements
To the deathless sky
I look up and I cry
A la perfection imposante qui est Dieu
Qui est Dieu? Qui est la nature,
Cela est animus.

"Ma dame, dost tu?--
"dost tu?"

J'ai regardé par la fenêtre d'un jour d'hivers
And concieved the screetches of the smoke-stacks
Un fantôme parmi le travail
Leur mort, notre mort

Les femmes viennent et vont

Simulation et simulacrum.


(sorry that this one is much less poetic than the original, but it's both accurate and at least captures a little bit of the tone of the original.)

The Age of Gold

The winds of fall carry the leaves towards melancholy.
The season is payed in loss, apathy,
As the trees stream from their bedrocks
To the deathless sky
I look up and I cry
To the imposing perfection that is God
Who is God? Who is the nature,
That is animus.

"My lady, dost thou?--
"dost thou?"

I looked through the window of a winters day
And concieved the screetches of the smoke-stacks
A ghost among labour
Its death, our death

The women come and go.

Simulation and simulacrum.