A Montage of Homages:


I’m ever the devoted fool
Trusting dreams as love
I’m ever the stubborn child
Never repenting enough

I’m the lone wanderer of Nevsky Prospect
Trivial like the gadfly against the lofty sky
Overlooked as a dusty tattered Overcoat
Crushed like an ant beneath the Bronze Horseman

When the bright lingers beyond dusk
When the dark, at dawn, hesitant to depart
Am I ever awake through all of time
Or am I to sleep all white days and nights

All I am certain is, that
Only in dreams can we reunite
All I know is, that this
Is the Dreamer’s sole purpose of life




The Saint Petersburg Dreamer
Long for a love beyond common strive
Yet, only exists to slumber through life
To finally awake when the night is nigh

Upon the earth, he’s a mere dust
When the tide arrives, all will be lost

The Saint Petersburg Dreamer
You mustn't have noticed he’s still there
Upon each and every torn overcoat
Every patch resewn: his dreams and love

When you are lost in love
Your soul ages quicker than you grow old
Don't you see those living bodies with
Dead Souls
Trying to reap what was never sown



For the five dimensional man
Time is like the Glasgow Subway
He'll be aging forwards and backwards
To get to Hillhead you can't skip Buchanan Street
To get to the good times you can't skip the sad ones
And there's always going to be more bitter than sweet
But there's no end for the five dimensional man
There's no end to the Glasgow subway




He bought a typewriter down Byres Road
Learned to write South of Houston, Prince Street
The love was foreshadowed in Pandrossou Market
And he bargained and lost it on Main Street


The traveler travels through all of time and space
When you live infinitely, you'll remember every name
But when between dreaming and losing is your place
Even the immortal would lose his faith
He would give up the universe for one true love's grace
But perhaps it's easier to fall into the six dimensional ways
If infinite number of him existed in an instant with every trace
No happiness, no sorrow, no loss, no heart breaks
He'll gladly welcome the end of his days


There is a space time gateway 3000 light years away
For the end of solitude he'll endure this 30 lifetime race
He just wants to feel the comfort of a senseless place
And to fill his aching heart with empty loveless space
When nothing's ever gone, despair will vanish without a trace
Could this be the fate, of the hapless five dimensional fool
Eternally without love, or another soul to his name

Jacques de Rouge

The wandering pilgrim

Of poetic seekings

Drifted away once again

Oppose the Homeland Paris

And into the Heart of Italy

Known for many feats

Though,

One was in particular

Unmistakable

It is the City of Dante



Firenze, in a frenzy

Have manifested itself

In the Golden Light

Of heavenly stars to be

Alive with all characters

Past and passed.

Opening wide behind

Lorenzo Ghiberti’s

The Gates of Paradise

Dante himself emerged

From the centre

Of the Florence Baptistery

And ascended toward the light

The opening of Hope and Stars

Among the rings of Heaven

Jacques de Rouge followed,

In pursuit.

And kneeled before him,

As Dante stopped and stood

With the Eagle!

In Piazza di Santa Croce.



When Jacques de Rouge stood

In a shadow at Palazzo Vecchio

The shadow revolved like

Da Vinci’s Helicopter

With what seemed like

A bulging knot at the end.

Barely missed his head

Jacques de Rouge

Realized the swings

Were from the slingshot

Of none other than

That of the one masculinity

Of all masculinity

Michelangelo's David.



His marble complexion transformed

Almost ever so light and faintly

Into a smooth and pale flesh.

Jacques cast his eyes down

In an unavoidable instinct of shame.

When he looked up, the flesh

Is now a single dangling foot

Seconds from stepping into

The Niche of Orsanmichele

And approaching his beloved Christ.

Amen, and he proceeded.

Discreetly into the Secrets of Sandro Botticelli,

That which is secured marvelously

As the Standing Monument of

Giotto’s Bell Tower

And

Brunelleschi's Dome.



The Three Graces danced

The Venus stood in the classical position.

And one woman looked wearily at Jacques

Staring into his eyes.

And yes, Heaven it was.

As Jacques stood in the illusion of the weightless contrapposto.