Dear Watchman,
Without thy gaze into the far
Without the warning, danger,
Without thought or care
Lost, would we be
Lambs.
In a world dressed with smiles
Hiding the vicissitudes
The callous calls of fury
This citadel would fall
Without this Watchman
Watching.
This land, this precious soil
It creeps with terror skulking in the dark
Your lighthouse looks for passage
And your gaze looks
Protecting.
Keep looking Watchman,
Keep eyes firm,
Stern or starboard clear
We set sail knowing
That your light will guide
Your eyes protect
Your wisdom dear.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
You said you’d have me in five years,
You knew how I young I was then
It’s been almost ten
That morning we lay there.. Perfectly honest
Perfectly naked
And we knew that that was the end
But those visions never ended
Those nights never stopped
In my thoughts we were tangled
Like lovers who knew no end
Sometimes All I remember are your stockings
Sometimes I remember You trying take a better position
To feel more stretched up against my chest
But, what I remember most is the light and the skin
The knowing before the night began
We knew what we were
Hoping that we might be more
Than the morning
Now I can only dream about you
You have become my lesson
The other world
Another place
Hope in a desperate time
The secret that life is cruel
And in its cruelty I am its fool
Last night I dreamt we lived together with my mother
I spurned you as we sat naked, your ******* perfects still
Your stomach relaxed as you sat on your knees
Half covered
In sheets
And to my mother you ran
Ignoring me
Avoiding me when, like in a ballet I followed you
Following my mistake
Desperate to correct
The mistake I made in those days of youth
The tragedy of reason
The foolish responsibilities we feel we have
To those other than ourselves
You were my lazy lover
A lover for whom and with whom I was too young
You flowed over me with your passion
My passion was yours to have
And I gave it to you like it was all I had
Now I have none
None for life but ornaments
Ornamnets who are the trophies of second place
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
The sun lays herself upon memory
Laying ground for unspoken imagery
And in this place of privacy
I rest my head.
Light from sky
And warmth from day
Protrude my eyes with the scent and haze
Of pollens strong
Inconspicuous way
And in comfort that time will start again,
And industry will take away
These moments of lustful and lazy play.
Until that moment,
when new forms
Of peace and want display
dusk becomes the romance and the pleasure
summer are the wealthiest of my leisure
And we will meet behind the dusty throw of light
orange red will be our candle
Till night looms
This – the aspect of our life
Our destiny and daydream this day
Forever
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:49 AM UTC
Breaking all the rules,
There they are like sanctions,
A double vision to a double end,
Secret lies for us to comprehend.
Freedom bore no place here,
It bears no meaning, nor no hope,
A shackle or a chain are all the same,
These are the courses we take.
And, with each days decisions,
Consequences of pain,
Life itself remains unconquered, you see it,
Amounting to all the same.
True to you is like the punishment recurring,
Yet untrue is immediate and cursed,
These very moments, weaken the weakness and weaker still,
The birds sing the songs I have heard them rehearse.
Light dawns on an early morning, twilight dawns and dawns a burden or a curse.
Another choice drifts nearer, the same set of choices that once were,
They have come with the sun to hurt us.
And hurt, they will, some more.
Conversations play like games of chess,
Tactics in words shifting their pieces with their meanings
Maybe poker, like a bluff or a guess,
Maybe imagination expands on less.
But, truth will out and games all end,
And all the cards will equal the deck,
That is the gamble, and the consequence,
That is life and imperfection.
When love is tangled in a knotted web,
For that moment where Sisyphus takes hubris for his glory,
To play to loose and crumble climb after climb,
He tried,
And encumber justice of the gods despite the story
Tis man who loses less and less.
Light dawns brighter with shutters drawn,
Peaking in and bringing the truths closer to their place of rest
Distance reminds us of home
And it is further than sleep will allow the spirit to acquiesce.
Sleep or sleep and night of quiet,
Golum comes for his ring,
The key he holds in his desire,
To hide that brute and murderous liar.
Golum waits till slumber, to remind,
We are all souls in desire, and night brings the snake to us all
and the fire.
So daylight breaks, birds sing their song,
They mate and fly and dance along
But, for Job, for Judas and for Peter,
The single man, the breaking bread,
Shaking hands and hanging head
Sacrilege smiles as we wake to glib
And that is life and that is majesty,
It is in those fables we hang our heads.
We are without perfection but welcome are we in company,
And, don’t forget Bessie Smith,
Rich once and poor twice and human through and through,
We’ll cheer the champagne and forget all the evil do,
For we have treacle **** cars and Andy Warhol to remind us,
There is no soul in art.
That is life, that is the pity of the profound.
A sorry lot if we cared, but, we don’t,
Like children born to be born again
We are here only, to roll around.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:49 AM UTC
Take them away to a nights adventure.
Sometimes this feels like a hotel room,
It’s not mine, it’s yours,
You make that clear -
Clothes are yours,
and remenants of days gone by,
All strwen across the floor.
Watching you walk to the bathroom, half naked,
except for your underwear.
That homely feel of comfort in a foreign place
reminds me more and more
of hotal rooms,
As if each evening were a holiday,
a holiday at home,
But it’s your home and the climates warm,
Turn the light, shut the door,
And two books open
Side by side,
you’ve got your sleep to come,
I’ll stare out the window, thinking, life.
Your fan is the breeze of the medieranean, comfort,
Still dressed, rolled up sleeves,
It’s quiet I seek, not chatter,
Just enough hours to read
till the middle of the night frightens dawn awake
The next days light.
The shadows creep with comfort
round the light about the bed,
and honesty is rolled in thought.
That is silence, sitting,
Sitting between ease.
Slumber waits like docked ships waiting for sailors.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:40 AM UTC
A turbulent two weeks, nothing happened - To us.
Not much done nor lived nor conquered,
The world closed
The sun sheltered from work.
And a reality hit like a Phobia,
A Fear of crowds or activity,
A fear of not.
We thought – answers never came.
In two hours the world will wake,
Anxious fatigue will dwell like ***** goggles on a clear view,
And in two rooms there is not enough air to breath.
Two hours till waking,
In bed we lie,
And like half a soldier
We conquer only what torments us,
Nothing at all
Only in our imaginations
We are lost.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:38 AM UTC
Time is something that wonders by,
meaning nothing, but for our lives.
The great expanse,
the truth untold
It’s all eqations, so I’m told.
Time is someting I’d like to conquer,
in my body and mind,
I’d like to know what Einstein saw after Newton,
In Time.
I’d like to beat the fates at their game,
reveal Plato’s world of ever lasting.
Time came, it went and it’s coming,
it’s now and then and will be – but not forever, at least here.
it conquers death, and life.
Time after all is not concerned.
So time,
in mystery and rarefied symbolism,
Are you real or just conjured?
Parmenides had you for nought,
Explain the passing moment from now till then,
The change from what is to what isn’t makes the sense your illusion,
maybe you’re static and we’re just pasing,
percptions’ lie and conscious deception.
But, if you really do have dimension,
let it be revealed,
let me turn your hand to my creation,
and make what I haven’t from past sensation.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:38 AM UTC
Weeks I spent looking out of windows,
Light passed with minutes to days,
Sitting,
A million times I’ve sat like this
Begging the adventures I’ve imagined,
Memories my closest friends,
Desire – only possesing.
A passenger sitting silently
Black nights with their blanket of silence,
Life moving past stories not unfolding,
Claustraphobia the silent anxiety,
Screaming.
Spring passes it’s peak,
I wonder,
Standing on the edge of time,
Summer’s siestas are boring.
Distance has found its partner,
For that separation we wait
We could touch,
But what would be the point.
Still light explains nothing,
Just movement,
The glowing is a fiction
Fairies on flowers, sweet visions for children,
Fantasies for me,
Dear, dear life,
I’m sitting,
Weeks, minutes, days,
Sitting.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:35 AM UTC
Despite the remarks of David Hume,
I am quite aware of myself.
I can’t see my eyes but through them.
And every day, as different as the days may be,
Time passes through their lens
Time passes that is, for me.
Despite understanding fragmented reality,
I have to make decisions.
Seeing that all of being is quite remote,
The choices made are choices that affect one body, not many
I ‘m sure that’s me -
And I am passing.
But, and as the case may be,
Pieces here I come:
In me that is one; there is more than one,
For I don’t know the discrete emotion that you know,
The nudge you feel to move, to stay, to go, quietly.
Different parts all rule their nests,
They are young and intemperate –
And that reader, makes living somewhat unblessed.
Decisions by different rulers can be, it is thought
Incongruent.
Different times different monarchs with changing interests,
Crowns of petal, crowns of thorn, crowns of fire
Different crowns on different heads, but one.
One body, one person one identity,
I am ruled by many
And being ruled by many ruling me is hard.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:34 AM UTC
“You know you need a note from your doctor”
We’ll sell you dreams,
We can sell your dreams,
We’ll sell your dreams,
We can sell you your dreams.
And they vanished as pen came to paper,
The first word written was an anomaly,
Religion intervened, the mystical value,
They’re now a creed.
“I’m sorry I’m not authorised to do that,
I’ll need to speak to a supervisor”
Walking out the door, I wondered, had I seen that face,
For every person, another abstraction,
Human numbers, forget the race.
“They sold your dreams to me friend,
Can I share, no, I’m alone here,
I need to believe in something”
I’m number one.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 1:26 AM UTC