Athens, February the seventh of two thousand thirteen
A long day is perishing, its dawn was short, its rain perpetual and its air heavy,
And I think it is a shame that you are not here with me, now that I look my watch and its 6 o’clock in the afternoon.
I have the stark feeling that Athens was much,, much more yellow with you here,
now that in my magic eyes are candles, and in my head bells, and that I listen the tachycardic throb of this keyboard,
being punched with rugged fingers for almost 3 pages, now that I see the clock and its 7 already,
I pop my knuckles just to harvest some cassavas for you, and briefly, I found myself judicious.
Because, today as always, and also as ever, I think it is a shame that you are not here with me…
My left foot aches like hell and I think about which running shoes I will buy, then I cherish the time we bought your brown running shoes and then, wonder the ones I just picked will like you, because
Maybe, in that near and also far day of fall, I will be using them, when I met you again.
Maybe then I will watch into my cellphone and, being 8 p.m. already, you will say “Hello, my love” while walking toward me … and I will say “Hello, my heifer”… And we will stand right there, both of us… me, stained with the green sea color of your glaucomic eyes, and you, with the blue stain of my banished loneliness.
Chasing raindrops down my window
Storm clouds overhead
In my head
Chasing teardrops down your cheek
Troubled times ahead
Stay in bed
Chasing the second hand round and round
Killing time dead
So she said
"Just another gloomy Sunday afternoon."
effervescent sprockets of spunk
you are everywhere.
> our brains collide <
a metaphysical mash of minds
the in and the outs.
I have joy,
but don’t find what I hide.
when you do,
and we will play pretend.
won’t be able to meet yours,
refer to me as someone
everywhere and nowhere
this space you play with
i’m not your jungle gym toy house game time afternoon
in the park,
I call bull.
Rearrange your head.
A breezy afternoon
Winds blowing my brown hair
And the sun shining in my blue eyes
A wave of nostalgia washes over me
Alone on the shore
With a lone lighthouse
And silhouetted palm trees
Which seem to touch the sunset
Of golden and of orange
The lullaby of waves
Sing to me
My aching soul
With salty breezes
And sandy shores
Footprints in the sand
Leading to island adventures
And to ocean treasures
Buried under the ocean's waves
Happily enjoying their island freedom
And their beautiful dreams come true
To be galloping on the shores
And feeling the cool sand
Oh, how I wish
I could stay here...
WE BELIEVE THAT
We are walking
We look human
We fake it
We can act human
We can get naked and fuck
It is only an appearance
We believe in our fucking
WE BELIEVE THAT
We believe in love
We do not love
Drones of death
And go on
Dancing with legendary devil,
Only on Friday,
Ran along too soon,
Captures all remaining grief!
Strips me bare without a care,
Peace together in piece,
Tries to make it right!
As strutting fellow pranced,
In rays of sunlight draped,
You and I in one,
Our Pas De Deux delight,
In panoramas bright,
Found myself in cupid's light,
A scope of vision unexpected!
Enthroned as poets lady wise,
Bathing in his darkness!
Encountering my white!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
I found a wise old man
over the weekend.
He was not condescending;
the wise man was my friend.
And I did not climb stairways
to meet my learned elder,
I fell o’er a threadbare cat;
listened, whilst I held her.
He crooked a swollen finger,
for he was hard of hearing,
far off eyes, a vapour blue;
not empty, and not leering.
And he chuckled in my ear:
All the answers he had found,
which the flowers chinese whispered
across the foreign grounds.
The way he told it showed me
how his gentle life solutions
were distorted and quite faded
after those emotional ablutions.
Yet each tale was a comfort;
marked one pretty girl, long lost;
beside him, pretty, every day,
despite the draining cost.
Then the blue sky clouded over
his eyes scruted the garden
I questioned ‘Are you well…?’
see the flesh cracks harden.
“Who’re you? Leave me; GET OUT”
for I was not his friend.
And then the nurses came,
though his confusion did not end.
I walked down to the front
for the afternoon was finished;
he no longer knew my name,
though I’d seen his mind diminish.
What a panging pain it is
to share with him cream tea,
whilst his mind is being taken
by that calm, corrosive sea.
Where the streets are dangerous
Even for the nations courageous
Crimes brutal cold heinous
All under the watching afternoon sun
They don't even try to flee and run
Calls to the media world come
Is the world now a better safer place
Is killing and blood spilling what it takes
No! God’s heart and the free it only breaks
Yet let all know that liberty will win
Let all cry we will never give in
Let all live lives of love in memory of him
Morning clouds dipped in last night's late afternoon
Tumble on by promising summer warmth soon
The sky empty of sun is a silver blue hue
Wildflowers dance to a soft breezy tune
The air is a raspberry lilac perfume
Everything, everywere is in bloom
The birds sing goodbye to the moon
I wonder how long it will be
Before I get to see you
I've climbed my world of trees today,
Before they had to go their way.
Before the sunlight met the sea,
Each tree I saw called out to me.
The green green tree with boughs of steel
Was pure and utterly ideal.
And I climbed quick as a whippoorwill
Springing from the window seal.
I climbed it grand, and oh, so high-
Through the thrush's song, and a robin's cry.
Through the deepest green that caught the day,
And promised to steal me away.
And I climbed a Monkey Puzzle Tree
As old as half a tree can be.
And it laughed to see me rustle through
Branches old and branches new.
I sailed through leaves as soft as lent,
Where spiral blossoms lept to play
Fragrant little games of chance
Within the haunt of their bouquet.
When the tall, tall, red tree called my name,
The one with pepper blossoms high,
And since no two trees are the same
I followed this one to the sky.
Up through branches bathed in light,
And down through tunnels in the bark,
I climbed this one with all my might,
Through the gray and winding dark.
Until I found my afternoon
Still waiting for me like the day.
I gave the tree a bit of heart
And watched it as it sailed away.
And there, beyond the Tin Tin Tree,
Where apple roses blossomed grand,
I noticed resting on its knee
The finest tree to ever stand.
A hundred, hundred trees in one,
Would be an awful lot of fun
Just to take a branch today
And rest the afternoon away,
But, Oh, I had to climb it high,
As high as God could make a sky.
I had to see the stars that He
With clever skill hid well from me.
I had to touch the setting sun,
Under my after-evening's shroud,
So up I went, through branches, bows,
Crossing leaves that laughed aloud.
Leaves that seemed to know my name,
That weaved their winding whispers through
That starlit flicker of a flame
I tried but could not look into.
I swung from branches tapped by age,
That creaked and echoed such a sigh-
The feathered leaves that rustled calm,
And I so briefly saw my sky.
There I paused and held my own,
My heart like thunder in my chest.
And I watched the quiet of the day
Paint ribbons in a robin's nest
And scatter shades of blue and red
Like waves upon my quiet sea,
And those threaded vines of dragons head
That weaved in through my Shadow Tree.
The morning bowed to afternoon,
As if to nature's sole command,
And shades and shadows drifted by
That secret place I chose to stand.
There were stars that climbed each peasant branch,
Stars that whispered to the breeze
That beat a hymn of ages past,
Known only to the trees.
Will-O'-The-Wisp's sang through the leaves
And danced about the sapwood sprig,
Darting here and pausing there,
Between each shadowed, lively twig,
Where EverNettles bright as dreams
Climbed deep inside the deadwood bark,
And called their young ones earnestly
To the safety of the dark.
And finally spent I caught my breath,
And peeled the spindly leaves away,
And waved my arms into the breeze
That sang the silvered songs of day.
There was a different world below,
A land of hills and river beds,
Of trees as tiny as the grass,
And roads smaller than the finest threads.
I reached out into the velvet sky
To run my fingers through the day,
Where the sandy silk of autumn brushed
The stardust noon had tossed my way.
And I breathed in all the wonder there -
All I could hear and feel and see,
Whatever wonder dared to share
From the branches of my Shadow Tree.
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
"There is always Music amongst the trees in
the Garden, but our hearts must be very quiet
to hear it."