.
Wrapping the sky
      around shoulders of grief,
prepared shuffles of aimless motion
in time,
     a hood of moons
transpire to illuminate,
          conveying the dissolution
of reason and rhyme,
as logic takes a bullet and bites the dust
resplendent in a cloak
     of transparent darkness swirling,
          a veil drops
like the final curtain,
with the august play about to commence,
     the actors, forward,
          taking a bow of silence,
to an absent audience who do not care,
the arrival at platform zero,
     of nowhere,
          travelling to nothing on a vacant train,
an instant express to the heart
     of the void,
carrying hallucinations
          in a purse
                    of stars,
Promise rides a chariot of blessing,
yielding a gift
     sugar coated in
          images and
                    words.


© Pagan Paul (11/04/18)

by
Gordon Lightfoot


The perfume that she wore was from some little store
On the down side of town
But it lingered on long after she'd gone
I remember it well
And our fingers entwined like ribbons of light
And we came through a doorway somewhere in the night
Her long flowing hair came softly undone
And it lay all around
And she brushed it down as I stood by her side
In the warmth of her love
And she showed me her treasures of paper and tin
And we played a game only she could win
And she told me a riddle I'll never forget
Then left with the answer I've never found yet
"How long", said she, "Can a moment like this
Belong to someone?"
"What's wrong, what is right, when to live or to die
We must almost be born"
So if you should ask me what secrets I hide
I'm only your lover, don't make me decide
The perfume that she wore was from some little store
On the down side of town
But it lingered on long after she'd gone
I remember it well
And she showed me her treasures of paper and tin
And we played a game only she could win
And our fingers entwined like ribbons of light
And we came through a doorway somewhere in the night
Songwriters: Gordon Lightfoot

Do you know what I think about when I see a single butterfly flying in the air?

No, you’re wrong, I don’t think of you. I think of how that butterfly keeps flying in the air, landing on flowers, leaves and trees while being all alone. With what purpose does this mere butterfly have and why does it keep flying around in such a majestic way.
I guess I think of myself. I too like the butterfly am constantly flying around with no purpose yet I continue looking majestic as I land on some flower.

BUT, when I see two butterflies flying together, I think of you and I, and that for a moment in time, I was not alone. That I found someone I could ‘fly around with majestically’ while still having no purpose. But you flew away and left me on some flower.
So now when I look at two butterflies flying together, I also see that there’s a chance to find someone else that will join me in my (no purpose) life’s adventures.

vain fluff, temporary garbage
954 pieces of trash is too much
to pick up

let the most dazzling of sunlight
and cool shade get along in peace
let the blue fat flies settle on the miles
of back alleyways full of dumpsters

veiled threats from anonymous faces
who are apparently experts in poetry
let it all rot under a gibbous moon