Posts filed under ‘Poema’
let your headlights drill a hole in the darkness let the closing shoot you forward let the convergence squeeze you through the night the dash lights are out but we'll find our way home the radio is mute but our thoughts will avail us tumbling forward pressing onward falling inward pushing upward cut a hole through the blackness reach out through the moment fight fight fight but at least we can move
i couldn't do it 'cause i just dreamed it the annual report is nothing; i want the v-10 careful with the rafters, come down from there do i just go 'round here or is there another way in? swivel sketching grainy pencil line control what else do i remember?if the cat hadn't been there then maybe i'd know more as i plodded along the floor if i couldn't be there then i had to do it we had already conquered it in the waning days of april and we could do anything, as we had that confidence that follows conquest let not he who girds his armor boast like he who takes it off we sure showed him. he presented it to a higher-up and flustered, returned "go ahead and do it. go ahead and see." akula. victor alfa oscar delta my room stretches up and out bathed in red, endless steel pillars another time. i can jump?can't i? is it just for me or should there be more? turn the key and slowly unlock the door and i come back to it, my penelope experiment the first and the best and the only complete trève de doutes, son age enfantin it's a weak rhyme if at all the urgency bears down, gare au fall possible place. voices swirl around, lopping off articles and splitting infinitives indiscriminatly. what should i do?what indeed when the very air on one side of me seems like a wall and the long strokes of sunlight on the other creep into my room my room. je n'ai rien qu'un sac de rien, chérie
its not and i dont do you remember? me. even? in time without striving without trying brilliant. you say but does it sparkle? does it? collapse. in about within without you like george harrison on a watershed roundabout, navy beans and a hackneyed sponge junk. is it? over. but so much much but i knew c'est compliqué... only? tell me.
these January thoughts of you somber though they sometimes are, appear to me a colleciton of liturgies, delivered piece by peace into your more receptive wishes and possibly to be that, come again, i couldn't hear--oh. now the unveiled sky turns above, covers whisked away in the heat of the day--colors are through, just an Orion gaze, stately and true, but here and there and now move a little her wings span galaxies and i can't see them all... ,just-- hush. listen to the grass, close now to our naked ears. dark promontories of the earth will sway overhead, but the greater stage is hers
trip trip one two slow, man stussy was a wide-eyed band red light/ green light treetops:smoke flares and a wing-ed boots, boots clasp clap your hands its all surface, but come get me outta here escape flat,real ity is a haze id kill for another cool sound bite and thats what its all about
between conversation, calm moments surrounded by the rest of a salty snowbank bustling flakes fall, a cacophony of noiseless wonder, reveling in the the knit blue of a sticky scarf. cold conversation regrets to steal the warming breath between us, misapplied, constant, and the concrete sky muting a rising sentiment bearing the mantle of a different season, clashing with the flecked paint and rough-hewn edges of the afternoon air, beyond the daystars of your eyes--
the travails of the interlacing breezes an appropriate symphony of white descending around a leaf-flecked observatory scintillating panes refracting the new mind-light among her eyes impossible irises swirl up to iron-plated tenets of existence wholly conceived of my own atmosphere's reflection. make me a tenuous dewdrop that i might taste the beauty of your sunlight
are you real or just a piece
of my imagination's lease?
drifting through my thoughts among
the other fancies seem so young
for wearied by the weight of air,
the insubstantial drifting there
your image in reality is more
than worlds of flesh and stone and war
or oceans with their swells of foam
capitulating toward their sandy home
receding ever, drawing nigh
doomed to crash there once and die
were they real, or like your eyes
caught up in that place of sighs
that bridge to stars and skies and plains
this beating of my heart remains
til air give way, and then i know
completeness floods my thoughts, they show
that words will cease, to take their place
will be realities of grace
across the rain-soaked cobblestones, the streaked, glimmering blacktop, through the acres of passing evergreens, cables strung overhead and blue sky, clouds entering the patches of light, laughter filling the tangible air between the chords of the music, jangling with the cadence of the road, slowing, breathing, slowly breathing, thinking about the blur that stretches between the edges of the window, and you, long steps of silence, nothing but our thoughts to recommend us, time, distance, days, weeks, seasons between us…
in full bloomcompanionship
to take
her hand
beautiful
ethereal
true
crossing the appenines, she came down Who shall I woo, said he. temperate into her feelings, lake and down again the change of the song speaks volumes untold to me --remain, said she. flight, above the sundries of the simple air moments passing, drowned into the future of us how can this be soon, said he. .. there's something in it, like the drop-stained greenness of the leaf in your virgin palm-- fire, its embers hidden the new valley, breathe the air between us .said she
The days grow colder around the house like a blanket of winter. The pressure gradient steepens and whips around us, bearing the leaves from their perches in processions of autumnal rain, setting the forest alight with the bustle of preparation before the stillness of the coming months. The tiptoeing of the piano keys drops into my ears like icicles of pure sound, ringing with cold echoes. I draw the blankets closer around me and sip the warmth, embers of my mind leaping, crackling, giving life again to the air between us. Confessions come and go and the distance remains. The season will be that much colder without the soft exhalations of your nearness.
mix your senses smell the touch of the look, and breathe his eyes--a neverending fabric of sky, lift all your senses into his embrace, and become, become be
do you know what makes my heart come around again, pause do you it's a lightly push of your image across my eyebrows, and such as you have never seen--the wind blows from you to me, never ceasing, but in my mindflight she comes, softly, deftly and captures palms when muffled my only heart, but then curiousthing in my seems her mind pristine to facets inward the soul is shining, slivers abeam to radiance of my eyes hers more the sky is vast, and among them she beckons is this ebb and flow reflections to draw me?inawords we skirt around,but my meaning is too shallsee a burning light and i would, oh i would
and a cup of earl grey, or peppermint, i could go either way on this drippy monday, blowing my mist off the surface between our selves. a casual thing, but more seems to hang in the raindrops between the eaves of our thoughts, a wood conceals everything you would expect, a clandestine newness, but not to be here. come back you are missed and you are thoughts in voidness fill the value and so, so yes when if you know a static eyes curiously blue and when will they begin to move before me a star turns she shines brighter than constellation in full force upon mine, and just a covering of hand, the steam rises again, and we meet
i would drive and drive wet skishes of the rain and dreams--a compilation newness wistful, but only for tonight i say perhaps as He moves and who does know?who indeed whether another tall self awaits my every embrace,and she peers inside forced fingers craning to see the mahogany of the soulness of me is it you?