poem

I don't understand. I don't understand. Do you? Nancy?
Jazz peeps on my pillow. [Reading between the lines].
Do you know what I love? I love the time before you actually admit your feelings to each other. Or you are not sure if the other likes you.

Note: Do not judge a book by it's cover. I was reminded of that in a clear distinct fashion just this moment.
I must remind myself of all the traditional idiomatic phrases ever read. Mother's Wisdom, I shall call it.
Endless bitter banter.

Banterious. Vicariously slashing peas open.
Tendrils of sound curl around my neck.

The white moon sinks; over the horizon
to places unknown. To places
where machines conquer all.
Where suns meet people for the
first time.
The eyes of the demon meet mine
for the last time.
I say farewell to a long known friend.
but too late, for she has gone without looking back.
Gone forever...into places unknown.
I shall miss her.

Now what to do, the demon has
turned away.
Turned away and gone forever.
Never will it be
Never will it hear my please or cries.

The patchwork pattern is blue red with gold.
It is sick and shall wait for our return.

Strange whispers in the night,
Call out to me their delight,
Of my frenzied this estate.

Sweeping shadows cover my walls.
I will not acknowledge their calls.

Weeping meadows give way to grey dust.
What in heaven's name has become of us?

I feel the chill
As a thrill
Down my spine -
So divine.

I say I love you to a strand of hair.
What madness have I come to?
My pen no longer writes.
It dies just as I do.
A slow inkless death.

What inclination do I have for my
Watery grave?
Or smoke filled.
Why do I partake of this intake
The noxious propensity.

Where have all the angels in my life gone?
All who approach me,
Are undercurrents of motive -
Submotives to be exact.

Artist collective
That aspires to...?
Change the course of
A pipeline.

How long will these words last?
Have I cheated myself again?
Am I insane?
Am I horrid and annoying?

Provincial setting.
Wooded lanes.
Foggy forests.
Possessed of an inner beauty.
Serene.
Untouchable.
Glows.
Looks upon the world as a familiar space.

Space
Geometric
Architectural
Infinitesimal
Proverbial
Quintessential
Artistic
Theatrical
Domestic
Industrial

The rain comes down softly
As soft as a page being turned in a monastery.
My love turns softly,
as soft as the night sky descending.
We are all under the spell now,
It has pulled us in.

Turning, turning, turning
In our madman's trance.
We dance like newly-weds
In the Rain.
Flowers are bursting forth
With different colors and perfumes.
The Earth's pungent smell
Engulfs us all.

Turning, turning, turning
The pages of the great book
I enclose my slavery in the last chapter.
I start anew my freshest slavery -
to you.

To you, the raindrops belong;
The yellow birds' song.

An enchanted one
That
At that.
Suddenly pounding.
Crazy to think
It'll happen again.
But I am sure.
It's subtle.
Be forgiving.
It's all over as
Soon as it started.
Goodbye, see you later,
Is the customary response.
Once again faceted in multiple warnings.
Notions of rhythm.
Up and down.
Side by side.
It's fast and fresh.
And in the flesh.

Frustrated pulses,
Quicken at the thought of escape.
You run, but where to?
All the hope and joy,
Sucked to dryness.
No remnants of the fervour
That once was.

Faces no longer carry
That timeless enchantment.
Instead buried deep and hidden
Lies to the treasure, the apple core.

Sadness lingers
Tears propped ready.
The desires of a generation
Ending in only two paths:
1) Fly and be strange
2) Stay and be dead

Something
Anything
That is the silent cry of a nation

Systematic productions
Video Hypnosis
Cranked out
Since the beginning,
Rhythmic pulsations.

Pull me out
Of this drowning mass
Need to be saved,
Hope for a release
A plea for anything
Anything that flies.

Desert Sky
Enriched with gold
Textured Sky Mass
Produced by forces
Shifting and flowing.
Chaos and Collisions.
Molecules kinetic.
Motion.
Liquid.

Felt like I was water.
Felt like I was melting
Buttery and soft.
Touch me and I collapse.
Intruding finger.

Hope to see the day
When all will go away
Save the glistening crystal
Truth.
Face to Face

Soulful Progeny
Once begotten
Never can destroy
That substance of mechanics.
The one that binds and forms
Molds and shapes.
Pushing up from the deepest parts.
Where are you now?
I cannot hear your
Whispering calls
No longer.
There is a silence.
Which before
I have not felt.
A presence of an absence
In kind.