Leave me
in this sour
bliss; the windchimes rattle
like old bones, waiting for ghosts to
disappear.
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Leave me
in this sour
bliss; the windchimes rattle
like old bones, waiting for ghosts to
disappear.
disappear
and reappear
for you are never more
real than when you are just about
to be
to be
a brown sparrow
barely noticed amongst
white swans and colourful peacocks
disguised
disguised
as myself I
pass virtually un-
noticed among the throng of the
hidden
hidden
among mossy
fallen trees and silver
webs, sparkling, silent, attentive,
i wait
i wait
so patiently
you hear no complaining
but inside, I am screaming, please
hurry
hurry
our time runs short
another day is spent
in our listless occupations
wake me
wake me
when the world is
new, when man transcends his
greed, and remembers all this is
not his
not his
not his mistakes
not his failure to love
not his fault i am discontent
but mine
but mine
is floating on
an iridescent wave
pulled by eight silver seahorses
homeward
homeward
i turn my gaze
weary of the days work
with my struggle and confusion
i'll sleep
i'll sleep
and plan my route
from the nightmare dark of
day to the free-flowing laughter
of night
of night
i dare not speak
for within those sparkling
stars my dreams lie dormant, waiting
to bloom
to bloom
or not to bloom,
that is the question, is
it nobler to wilt on the vine
or not?
or not
to travel these
winding, filthy, dreary
roads that lead straight to the back of
nowhere
nowhere —
each day starts here,
wind has taken the past,
which falls grain by grain like morning
snowflakes
snowflakes
fall drop by drop
smiling at life's frailty
heat from a little sunshine pops
them off
them off
my sweater vest,
burrs and bugs and bracken,
so I can be presentable
at school
at school
there is no room
for expansion of mind
and spirit without breaking down
the walls
the Walls,
they welcome I
burden of I return.
Grit, where all soul begins - the Womb
lost Son
Lost Son
One of a kind
listing along his life.
Does he know he's loved, does he know
he's missed?
he's missed?
perhaps by some
when did he go, and where
maybe he'll come back and tell me
he's gone
he's gone,
eyes no longer
there, cooled in memory
as metal sunk from the forge in
water
water
every where I
see but nothing to quench
my thirst in a desert full of
Mirage !
mirage,
leaves twisting from
clear eyesight, streams funneled
shifting above the desert sand
in waves
in waves
move time and space
wave after wave they move
until they become one and all
with God
with God
all possible
she, for you, ne'er against
kiss her sandals, place them aside
delight
delight
gives not the kiss
mind does not give you love
there is something spontaneous
you share
you share,
i share with you
what does it really mean?
it's giving us deliverance,
with love
with love
I chasten my
beautiful ideals to
consort with time-honored standards
redeemed
redeemed
a moment's loss
transformed into a lifetime's
gain, only because I trusted
in you
In You
I see myself
And in everyone else
I see void, space and empty shells
Vision
vision
antique half-life
like philosophy had
when Rhode kept her isle, 'ere psychic
tools ruled.
tools ruled
man walked the earth
a bipedal creature
leaving aught but destruction in
his wake
his wake
I bob up, down
synchronized with the waves
I turn, looking for the stillness
to come
to come
into the house
only to run back out
he is in there with my heart in hands
broken
broken
beams of sunlight
scatter, spread and expand
the contrast between night and day
begins
begins
in this daydream
visions of silent ghosts
sliding through life in delicate
pressed sheets
pressed sheets
covering my
daybed, hidden by shams
and spread, under a battern of
roses
roses
the yellow ones
tiny tea, company
won't you please come and dine with me
savor