Romanticised, phantasised, moments and actions
which reality could not hold,
yet, force of desire makes manifest.

Sleepwaking in a walking dream,
as a thousand echoed universes flow by,
each alone, yet glowing in the brilliance
of a million thoughts and feints and
flowing emotions, occupying the fragile mind
from the nothingness held within.

The scent of old books,
Tracing fingers over their ideas,
Changed by the changeless

It need not be 'and' or 'or',
There's room for both,
And so much more.

Closeted, our life grows staid,
Bound to tracks that habit laid.

We yearn for change, we yearn for 'more',
Yet trawl the paths we've walked before.

At close of day, when darkness calls,
Do we rejoice, or hold remorse?

I used to think the restless waves,
Touched the beach in sweet embrace,
Shaped its form with loving hand,
Bestowing gifts to charm its swain.

Now I see indifferent march,
Cold consumer of the land,
Loving hand replaced by teeth,
Eternal rock reduced to sand.

I used to think the restless waves,
Whispered softly to the wind,
Reaching up with frothing lips,
Imparting secrets with each kiss.

Now I see the silent words,
Shouting rage against the land,
A totem of the cold and dark,
Ever waiting for our hand.

Our world is measured in childhood grace,
Future states, as yet unfolded,
Birth the words, that claim and hold us.

Cold consumer, of the void:
Time, it strips our nous and voice,
Memories fail and slowly rust,
Our universe, it falls to dust.

Life, life, a fairy tale,
Whispered on the night,
Dreams are prone to fade away,
When silenced by the predawn light.

Stuck, still, traffic bound, sat
in silent solitude, surrounded by
my fellow man, each encased
in learnt response,
reacting to each small inflection,
never more than their reflection.

a woman walks, smile arresting,
her soul is etched, by need and hate,
contoured to her given face,
her eyes cast back, my own construction,
sat here, bound, a tired agent,
dreaming of emancipation.

the light, it changes,
breaking state, a reflection of
my inner scape. The journey
drives us past our haste,
an automaton craving grace.

words elude my breaking sight,
dream, and dreams of forms
bear might.
built and forged upon the light, now -
it fails, consumed by night.

aloof the babe at mother breast,
forged a world, upon its flesh.
lines and form, subdued in sense,
amorphous matter - cracked and rent.

are true the words, which mask seeming?
or void held gaze, and lack of dreaming?
a man, a man, in restless slumber,
context born of lust and hunger.

can we see, a world past sight?
strip away the egos might?
a star, a star, throws out its light,
grasping for
the endless night.