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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.