There he is,
between the Siberian Tiger and the Maui's Dolphin,
**** Mobilis Nullius.
She does not own a cellphone.
Text for her is the letters and words
that make up a book.
If he wants to take a picture,
he'll use a camera, thanks.
She doesn't want to download, upload,
freeload, overload,
girl, you've got to carry that load
of debt to the telco company.
He watches movies in the cinema
and he doesn't want to be hooked up
to the internet
or caught in the ever-widening net of commerce.
She's happy with the ancient ways,
songlines on the landline
lines on the land
where a woman can walk away
and hear only the ringing
of bird song,
lines on the land
a man can follow to the heart
of somewhere lost
and know only peace.

In your eyes, I see the brightest light
The beam that shining in front of me
It goes straight into my heart
And light my world so I can see

In your eyes, I find colors
Shimmering like a rainbow
I see two bodies dance with grace
Held by love that make them glow

In your eyes, I read the words
The words that only you can tell
You may not speak but heart can hear
The sweetest sound like wedding bell

I have not grown accustomed
to the sound of your messages.
Their presence did little to assure,
nor did their absence cause unsettling.
Today, however,
I must admit
that I have waited for that bell.
My heart salivated
at the sound of passing bicycles,
hoping finally it was you
remembering the love
you have left waiting.
I wonder:
How could you have conditioned me
to anticipate something
that has never been constant anyway?

for j.e.
*013115

She was like the wind, everywhere at once and suddenly not there at all,
She was madness, she was irrational, she was blinded by love,
She was passion in itself, her soul always one step ahead of her body,
She was the girl who always loved too much, always gave too much and always hurt too much,
She conjured up lightning with her words,
She spilled oceans onto pages and then drowned in the storm,
She was the dreamer who never really woke up,
Love was always just out of reach, laughter was always a step ahead of her,
She was madness, she was lightning and she was love,
"I must get my soul back from you", she said, "I'm killing my flesh without it".
She still lingers on, in between the pages of the Bell Jar, hiding in poetry that touches your soul,
She still lingers on, waiting for the day he returns her soul back to her so she can laugh in colors again.

Such a cruel world.
Born to cry
Raised to weep
Whipped to work

You next class starts in a minute,
better not be late for the bell,
because the bell tells you
where you should be.

Work work work.
What ever happen to nap time?

I heard your steps.I had a feeling
that red leaves knocked to the
ground while falling from an imaginary
tree. I simply knew that they became
frightened in the fall. I had the feeling that

I heard your steps, I had that odd
sensation that you were still alive.
But, in the next moment, I was sure
that I didn't really hear any step.
I saw my Ligustrum vulgare losing
its leaves. I saw myself in the mirror.

I couldn't hear your steps.All I knew was
that I loved you. All I could hear was
the fall of the leaves.But in the next
moment, I felt your kiss on my incurable
and irreversible wound.

I heard the church bell ringing.

A week and a half, a year before ship sails
Azalea path was already paved
Soon I found someone in the same state of mind as me
All insane of astrology, all insane of metaphors

There's this delirium episode going inside of me that made me
slash what carried me far to see if I could survive worse
even tried the continuum oblivion
till I dare my hands to drive me in to an atom collision

There are times when it wasn't all about wars
I spent it combusting to few places
When and where snow is an empire usurped by crippled leaves in the fall.
Fall, fall, fall
It was him who falls and leaves.

One night, or one day, I don't quite care
but that is when I got away
I ran with flames not yet ignited
I barricade the commotion out with flimsy threads, all I can think
Didn't even thought threads spread flames (if it's ignited)
(Well now it's ignited)
And someone caught up in it

I can still hear him even now
That's the end of my life
The rest is posthumous
talking me up

I hear the toll**
   *  Screaming through dry space
  Cracked and fragmented as my own face
Is the sound of fate
      That tolling
  Rolling and rolling
   Stopping and strolling
  Making its way nonetheless
        It played
      Hot and decayed
    Metallic song frayed
       Etching my bones in its stress
I stared at length
        My eyes unhinged
  Bathing in revelation
        The heat subsided
   As I realized
I was the sound's destination
      I layed down cold and did as told
And never asked anything
It was within myself the Fate Bell tolled
With an ever rising ring