Fatigue Claws around the eyes Like smile induce wrinkles Cut by too many peals of laughter Now a chasm of long blinks and yawns The spring sunshine a lullaby Gently suggesting that dawn’s rise be compensated The dream/reality balance restored By drifting into the passing clouds of the mind And letting those heavy lids fall …
It’s just a little too much When the chicken is burned And still undercooked The woman is beautiful And somehow pissed Maybe it’s the chicken Perhaps it’s the budding of the flowers Giving her visage a run for its money We’re all fucked in our own little ways Especially the new flowers Who like all …
Oh now we’re really rolling, Down though the seas of mist Hearts beating with the wings of ibis Songs of cetaceans calling us on Beyond the snows and crags Far to the other side of the glaciers Where the dying rays of the sun Slip away, only to illuminate again When again the beaks of …
In a wooden basket, on the peripheral of a busy sidewalk, Elevated Train rumbles above and cars thunder past, A peach, perfect in every way, awaits a hungry mouth. Bourne on a farmer’s motorbike, From the verdant mountain orchard which gave it birth Now it waits in resplendent glory Nurtured by the sun, sold under …
Months, years of the same Uncertainty the traded currency Doubts in gold and silver The whispers of the past Played in easy dances to smooth tunes On dancefloors a blaze in laser light Echo out from dreams And again The promise of their return is afoot Perhaps again the night will be sweated out Again …
Chanting from the depths of life From the core of humanity In rising tonal madness The veil of illusions is lifted Beneath the Banyan’s weeping boughs A glimpse of the eternal The flow of space time From immemorial to eternal Thundering in crimson and gold Rolling down from the abode of snow
A dream, On the cold breeze of dawn Moving the frost crisp leaves Stirring the pine down Leaving my tumbling mind Departing those tumbling billows Taking flight from my pillow Leaving only the ego behind Yearning for the world That danced in resplendent technicolor Illuminating planes of unknown existence Making an utterly ordinary someone The …
In rolling steppe I found my feet Brittle grass crunching under my feel Summer sun low on the horizon Shadows long in the treeless expanse A sacred wind blew Cold, dry, aimless on the plain I, alone, heard it’s song Its whispered melody Bearing down on my like a galloping horseman Bow drawn, aim steady …