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Sun beams through crystal
a dioptrical rainbow
a marked refraction
Edited
Broken pottery,
a bowl held in winter's hands;
eternity paused.
Original
Broken pottery,
a bowl held in winter's hands;
shattered shards of love.
he came to go
You have gone like a summer’s eve
the desert wind to grieve
leaving mankind to believe
there is no love to relieve
gone with the summers eve
the wind
the breeze
now tis time for love to freeze
come back as the tremor does
and
fly on the back of the wind in turn
come from the wilderness
where I believe
from where you your loved one
want to retrieve...
make it a belief ....
HIS....
I could have left you many months ago
to salvage what was left of my young mind,
but I would not have had these scars to show
you now; though you were cruel, you were kind.
Throughout those frightening nights, your shadow grew,
you cast a wicked spell that held my hand
and let my mind discard all that it knew
so that it spoke your words at your command.
Again and again
I'd tell myself
"it'll be worth it."
And I'd believe it to be
Gospel truth,
if only you'd believe it too.
But there I was,
ready to leave,
ready to finally cash in my chips,
the first night you looked back.
I never told you
how close you were,
that it was the trailer or me.
I was there
ready to leave,
to leave it all a memory
until you blinked.
Bathe in the sodium birth of light
the naked concrete wall concieved
with the madness of colour and
worlds of words
The chant of Prophetic
Chaotic Love
The flesh of rot in the dumpster
boxcars
and tilted shopping cart
wrecks
I could call up and say hello,
a few buttons pushed and hear a voice
or drive a bit, not far to go.
For years and years I had the choice.
One by one they all fell out of touch.
It wasn't their fault, wasn't mine
like chicks leaving from their clutch.
I pretended all was fine.
Until now there are no old ones left,
no one whose council I can seek.
From my life they've all been cleft.
Whose advise should I now seek?
packs of half crushed fags
the smolten bodies of liquid
pleasure perfume
The snarling Sterling
chunky skull and braided
ebony
pound notes held down
by shillings and pence
knackered and taken
the Bump
arms outstretched
these bones for
pillows
bury our dreams
in the strands
of surrender
listening to the
faucet drip
and the Telly to
mumble
time jumps
winks in and out
within the matrix of
the collective hallucination
each quantum-microsecond
it recreates
every scene
every dream
so, at moments -
those between the nows -
I have nowhere
to physically exist
where am I
who am I
when time is not?
.
the light from the
window
the night still
no
raining
the cold light
like a ghost
emerges you
right
beside
my bed
Is it
your a dream
not the face
I know
youve shown
This twin
has met
my twin
Turn about
and slip into the
shadows
the light spilling
over you
as you
dissappear
Ive seen you
a few times
on the street
the smile I befriended
and only once
The girl
I fell for Love
in
..