In the shadow
It was decided that me and my ghost
would hold vigil at the stone on top of the tomb
The sky was watching closely from above, what’s there deep down
Below? I did not know
If that was love or pure madness that had driven me
To assist. But then my ghost insisted
It was hard to resist the preying eyes
The white knuckles, the inviting lips.
She needed a companeer,
Somebody to hold her hand while she’d cry for the loss
Long denied, much too feared.
And the oak trees stood witness and the sky watched above
How the howling and sorrow found a word that was love,
And the nails grasped the earth that was covering the dead
And she cried, and she weeped, while I waited ahead. And the pine trees stood witness
And the moon shed a tear. Thus I dreamt in the shadow
drawing back in my head.
G.
Seas of sand
The boat goes on, thrust in the wind, a darkening
Speckle on the seas of sand, a ghastly
Sail traversing the horizon. Its lifeless “now”
That’s always been, the memory of dreams at dawn
With open eyes still gazing at the rising. Take time,
Take love, there’s plenty in the hour-glass, quietly put your hand
In this liquid mirage we call dust, how is that like?
Navigate your fingers
Through the cutting crystals and just inhale the
Perfume
This is the schorching heat that’s waiting for us at the next harbor
The fumes are visible beyond the door of your hand
When we will reach the shores of this sea
Of this land.
G.
When it is written
Unspoken words have no life beneath the blink-of-an-eye
They wither and pass like the fog on the hills, like the mist
On the Meadows; but if you silently stay, if you cling to the moment
You will hear what`s been spoken in that split of a second.
It`s neverending, truly a giant library of Babel where all are just copies
With the tiniest of mistakes, there are the true “love you’s” to the wrong person
There are the “goodbyes” that were not meant to break. The maelstrom of
Unspoken words
The immensely stratified web whose chords are tiny mistranslated transcripts
Just await to be written. You can’t be wrong when you write, this is the convention
That sometimes needs another edition of the book to be pushed on the table.
Thus I lay all my thoughts as they come, as they go, let it fly – says the voice
Let it flow. And one day, just one day, looking back I will see what was right
Not to write, but to know.
G.
Antagonite
Stare in silence, sweet voice of crystallite
Black crow of deliverance, adorned
Aragonite.
Its wings of velvety arcades
Unending
Its eyes two fiery godly teardrops
Descending
In light.
It is the rock and the stone that fall loudest
It is the rigid embrace that binds deepest
Tonight I’ll find another way to feel
Hide from me that which is weakening
That which is deafening to my music.
G.
Gills
Tell me what’s below the surface since
I’m drowning inside out, shout at me louder
Talk to me faster, isn’t that what is life
All about?
I forgot my own name and my body’s desire,
Irrespective of doubt, open eyes closing shut
To contain all the fire that was dripped from
The fire, isn’t that what is life all
About?
G.
Stillsdance
The dawning of day, a glowing haze,
The purple ever-murdering blazing Sun
Returning.
Forget thy glory my beauty, we’re in the slaughter dance and the song
Has begun
Hum hallelujah, come growl with me,
Oh humbly, the tune sung so old; like the curses it bites
Like confessions it’s told by thy mouth dry and bitter,
With the teeth
This and thither, with the forked tongue abridged,
Sing for me like a gargoyle
Sing for me like a snake watching close how I dance unabated and still
For my heart’s beating ill
For my carcass is bleeding
For my memory’s fleeting
For my smile’s getting old.
Whisper lullaby
Without a sigh connection failed in whispered lullaby
Without a con, without a trace, the Winged Butterfly.
Its eyes just bulging up above
In tearful symphony,
Her arms just aching for the love
That she would take from me.
It’s just a song of give and take,
Of silent stormy thoughts, and
In the years of Heaven’s sake
She wrought the Heaven’s rot.
Come whisper to me lullaby
No rest and no release
No breath to ease this passing hour
That pleases he who sees; a lash, a gaze, a look, a spasm
The chasm of the eye. And in his ear,
Within that year, the dreadful ghost of nought
The Winged Butterfly
The Whisper lullaby.
It’s been a while
It’s been a while, there are wrinkles now around
Your eyes, your nose, your beautiful smile. And on the bench the
Remains of the day, will we face that? You asked. We may yet, I said
We still may. Now there’s time and there’s distance, and a rhythm for sound
And the shackles that bound
Man to beast, earth and sky, heart
And arrow.
It’s been a while now, there are boxes in memories and there’s dust
In the chambers’ deposit, full of anger and lust. It’s been all eroded
Corroded
By the kindness of angels, those devils that pass.
And on the lake the remains of the day whenst I prayed
Whenst I layed in my boat. Afloat, or just the dreaming?
Will we face that? You asked. We may yet, I said once,
We still may.
G.
Time bled
Time bled to the point of exsanguination, the tiny
Ruby
Droplets
Would leave no choice, no offer for imagination. It was obvious,
It was there. It was pulsating nightmarishly behind my temples
And dilated pupils. Everywhere I’d look, I’d read that news, that seed
Of damnation. No, there’s nothing left, no offer for imagination
Not even doubt, the welcomed companeer, that mariner that helped me
Steer.
Time bled. Time bled. So take me down instead, won’t you? No, you can’t, I know
But damn you for not even considering it, not even suggesting it as a likely
Trade. When all will
Fade I’ll
Say farewell.
The under-longing Tristan
Their hearts were beating fast, in a pacing arrhythmia, here is
The dream, the panoramic delusion, now Behold!
The initial
Confusion
Is gone.
Oh my so-ever invincible Lord, what in Heaven’s name
Have they
Done?
He has branded his soul with this sweet under-longing, never there, never
Here, while the mind kept on turning
Spinning out of control.
I will give myself up to the memories’ chasm, shut the door, shut the light
Say hello to phantasms of yore, now for Heaven’s sake one cannot but
Adore
This delusion. Under-longing effusions filled his nostrils
It’s the flavor of life. What a life. What a lie. What a cruel way
To die.
