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st64 May 2013
1.
sterile crowd walks out
cook offers to step in!



2.
sandy shores
silly dreams

hope and fear hold hands
tremulous.



3.
cloaked in tags
covered in labels

RIP-'em  freakin' OFFA ME!




S T, 12 May 2013
dream, dream, dream . . . really?



The coattails of the dream-weaver

up
tired
alone
drowsy
now I see
stand over me
hover above my eyes
wait and watch my lids fall
cast a silent spell of smoky tendrils
strut your presence deep in my psyche
piercing eyes sear the depths of chambers
along the edge of sleep, dance fanciful figures
almost tripping over their feet, in aching frenzy to find
that reach which cascades, dangles all along the lip of reason

all along the lip of reason, all along the lip of reason, the lip of reason

leaving the cusp of awareness, venture below this vague surface
fall airless over rim of closed awakeness, thoughts dying slow
cocooned on soft wisp of dreamy shores, I float
yonder hills beckon so gentle and pastoral
welcoming arms wave on sunny dale
seeming to envelop all fears
offer to swallow dark pain
dissolve mal aches
promise peace
echo love
ride joy
see u
hope
dip


until I get there . . .


(refracted dust)

sullen eyes greet my unopened eyes, yet I see all in my dream
all the answers come flooding; time-frame out of warp
you are just a dire apparition,
you tell me in my dream to stick out my tongue
and I freakin' do it, because I believe in your words
crash!
you drop a ten-pound hammer onto it.

no field of flowers saluting with merry faces
none of jolly smiles
just a knife-wielder, vicious in intent . . .
waiting on nervous springs, for my next move
chasing . . . a fugitive in my own blasted dream
oh heavens, when then is relief?

thus
such vain bidding adieu to impervious dreams.

**** u, dream-weaver!
what a hopeless battle to hold onto the coattails of the dream-weaver
lose my grasp and slide off
slip away

burn AWAKE, cold sweat like fat beads the only proof of the onslaught of a ride with you . . . and the journey's reward?

oh, I can't remember . . .

oh!
and . . . sweet dreams to you, dream-weaver
I'll come visit you tonight . . . in your dreams!
st64 May 2013
From a pavement bistro, enjoying an alcove espresso and jam scone
After fresh rains, scenic smiles yet the road is of red sand
Young children play ball in park adjacent, some teen skaters pass by
Skirt-tugger hangs on for dear life, while she perambulates the baby.

The little, old man places with care, two stones behind his back wheels
His car stuck on the muddy, wet road
A small, slow push by stranger passing; it rolls easily from soft, red ruts
A wave of thanks, a friendly smile and off he goes.

Anna steps in ruddy hope, septuagenarian in jaunty hat and Sunday best
Ready to meet the one of a lifetime, widow of a decade
Correspondence long-time with namaste-man, final reward
Ribcage busy, beat in mouth, eyes flit eagerly, hearty salutes.

But nobody knows that someone is being watched,
From across the distance of the park, a clutch of strangers
Their beady eyes, hooded expressions, they wait
Fate is sealed when car drives by; irrevocably red.




S T, 11 May 2013
So, sunshine fled this morn.

There are other people in this tale too, but I can't remember too much of them.

Work of fiction.
st64 May 2013
she manages to twist things into a lifetime wonder
but life is made up of losses, and finally
the picture stuns with clarity.

that she is merely an inexperienced truant-player on a roll
a rather silly heraldist of mundane matters
an astounding figment of wonder.

she holds in her right hand jagged wedges of exquisite thrills
which she feeds slowly to the roiling storm
one by one - by one.

on the edges of the larcenous cloud, she sits and waits
while throwing down pebbles of trying events
all soft-cloaked in secret mirth.

she grips in her left hand a galaxy of recalcitrant injuries
that, two by two, she lets orbit off into space
greet them in serene farewell.




S T, 10 May 2013
no-one knows who she is, but she waits for you....when you visit venus :)

yeah, I think I will visit this venus one day.. gotta go there..



venus-dweller

storm-eater, sea-stirrer, mountain-lifter
careful how you tread, mordant one
there's a heart inside of this..

secret-finder, fantasy-******, space-hider
withholding so, only to please another
ends in paranoiac cries of loss

range-crusher, sky-creator, venus-dweller
how pithy seems a deliberate stance
mere weak bids to seal mars

ocean-stepper, country-hopper, desert-swirler
oh, can you sense the finer pictures inside
whirl and eddy, down..down..down..



yeah, have a fabulous day!

:)
st64 May 2013
Just
No finer purity
Standing in the sunny grass
I hold a small posy of yellow flowers
Off to seek my fortune in the spring of my life
Open eyes, half-smiling and shy, this is my whole world.


S T, 9 May 2013
Fotograf Printanier.

A beautiful snapshot of my son (then aged 4-5 years) in our overgrown garden, exploring the joys of insects and vegetation.

He is so lovely and very inquisitive, always full of questions, half of which I find myself unable to answer!

:)
st64 May 2013
choo choo

next stop.....perdition

(no, not really...no-one believes this Stygian opacity)


1.
look how Time doth ravage thee
look what it did to thy visage
in smithereens, lies youth
it so artfully takes away
what is held so dear

rivers and streams
valleys and hills

arching to ecstatic heights
plunging to abysmal lows

into the ravine of chance
stirred by the spoon of Time
slowly around the cauldron
brews the self-same mixture
then poured into chasms of forgetfulness

using the eternal sledgehammer
it
smashes the foundation of thought
grinds the nutmeg of speed
pulps the fruit of mentality
slows the pulse of sensation

and pardons none.


2.
what was once sensuous and voluptuous lips
now are merely two dry slits on your face

once stared-into eyeballs, now glass over
vitreous cataracts steadily grow, ****-like

toned into lithe elastic bands now stretch
away into forever, a pale platform to walk on

life's morn is encompassed by years' slanting
clouded and bedimmed by mists of age

butterfly's existence outweighs a man's
by mere night-veiled windowpane of true sight

draw the curtains; close the shutters; screen the eyes
the time has come to shed all blinkers and face the sun.



3.
crimp
sag
limp
drag

mud cracks down a dipping dale
scalding pain sears sore half-foot

yes, time is but a disease
ravaging all
without fear or favour

sunken eyes
slower reflexes
tardier mind
scraggly body


hides not
condescends not
forgets not

the glimmer of ....
a time of ...


4.
cathedral invites the walker in
cool and calm recesses
sit silent
wait....

then *they
walk in, carrying
one who had but a lucky half-score lot

clear soprano note becomes a rudderless bleat
announcing the folly of stifling ego

now shorn of burning frost of circuitous fervour
beams of mercy cast a final look-see
jump the barriers of
time
to
carry thee off.



pipe *****-stops are pulled out



(art thee ready?  platform number 5)



S T,  9 May 2013
How age doth touch the brow of one and all.

Looking at pictures of and being inspired by the writing of esteemed Anglo-American writer W. H. Auden (born in 1907, York, UK - died in 1973, Vienna).


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
    doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
st64 May 2013
[read.aloud.in.monosyllabic.monotonous.robotic.voice]

it.is.fift­h.may.year 2059


click
got cyber-pests?
introducing.the.all.new.zap-a-cy-pest.control
(no.mo­re.worries.of.being.cyber-bugged)


click
got.some.bad.cyber-pa­in?
easy.to.use.no.problem.zap-a-pain
(no.more.cyber-headache.or.­backpain)


click
got.loud.cyber.noise?
fix.it.with.simple.inst­a-silencer
(simply.clip.on.and.away.the.cyber.sounds)


click
g­ot.poor.mobility?
get.the.facile.magi-mobi.to.move.you
(no.more.c­yber.traffic.jams)


click
need.a.break?
get.the.insta-vac.prog­ram.to.cast.off
(take.the.cruise.vacation.of.a.lifetime.in.half.a­n.hour)


click
feeling.old?
get.the.insta-rejuvy.package
(no.m­irrors.needed.anymore)


click!


S T, 9 May 2013
sick!

Who knows what the future may create....some interesting but annoying cyber-problems:
cyber-pests / cyber-pain / cyber-noise / cyber-traffic, blah.

Hence, the new range of Insta-magic products designed to help one cope....ta-da!



hair.falling.out?
don-a-wig!
We're not there yet!

need a pet?
cyber.pet-walking!
oh, let's not EVEN go there...lol
st64 May 2013
Kindly open up
Are you there?
Real time, I need the right one.
Enough of crap.

Let's get real.
In time, you will see.
Now or never, how you waste!
And as you always vulnerable, never ready.



S T, 8 may 2013
Just some stereotypical rambling.

Love European (art) movies.

Can anyone figure the acrostic?

:)
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