wine print on neutral veronese,
some drink to live,
some live to drink

i spent a lowly year "out back"
high up in the Adirondacks
i spent a couple grand and change
lay a lady lay again...

here lies conquer with no-seq
ne vis plus, prefaced as con
harboring the depth of write
just to overcome the wrongs
always drone as rhythm does

pin and doily on the water
mag-a-nolia, Julian, golden
life of old and orchards open
send a silhouette to the cabin door...

happy getting older, broaden
road and carriage,
stock and bale
bail and stalk
walk o’er hill
neatly seated at heron
seated on the bench i stole
i knitted up the overgrowth
and lay i shall think of the olds
of plum-stained linens from the gods,
rags and gore,
pale blue bones
the modern peril is destination and fortified knowns.

Ode to The Epiphaner:

Verse:

So all the silence and emptiness
Is just so I can grow endlessly and free
Unobscured by the foliage’s density
All the oxygen won’t be stolen from me

If the soul and mind can’t hide
In the darkness of the night
How can I ever collect
The fruits of the dreams I strive

Let me
Climb upon barren rocks of greater heights
With the abandoned groves in sight
Every yield is mine
Sometimes a no man’s land
Can be the most beautiful place under the sky  

Chorus:

Those that despair, still care
While the silent continues to sing
The Epiphaner will always be here
For me, a long long road remains
But we will all take flight, we will all fly
Our wings will bid farewell to earth
But, there is still time
There is still time
One day, even time will die
Even time will die
Time will die
It will die

Bridge:

If only leaves and lone stars reside
In the ultramarine midsummer sky
How short and trivial will be my sight
I want to be the century-old desert tree
The Watcher of the waning moonlight
Without the ceaseless River of Praise
I still won’t go “gentle into that good night”


Verse:

Why only distance and unreachable gaze
Could testify the true believer’s faith
Like watcher of the lost, the pale moonlight
I have to shine bright in the starless nights

I have to lead the way
For the broken and dazed
For them to escape
This bleak and hopeless place

Upon the
Land of nothingness and desolation
The road is calm with a sure destination
I will be on time
One day I will be there
Perhaps still the only one
The Lone Soul basking on the other side


Chorus:

Those that despair, still care
While the silent continues to sing
The Epiphaner will always be here
For me, a long long road remains
But we will all take flight, we will all fly
Our wings will bid farewell to earth
But, there is still time
There is still time
One day, even time will die
Even time will die
Time will die
It will die

CODA:

If there are more vessels than waves
In the tides and curvature of time
How tedious would the voyage be
I want to be the eternity shadow
Ever unrequited, loving the sunlight
When all matters in the universe die
The abyss would still be my paradise

I

Men must slumber in the darkness
In order to be truly awaken
Men must be desperately lost
In order to look up at the endless stars

The young love to sing about death
While the old worship life like the sun
The young are hopeless on earth, dreaming of flight
The old fear to be parted from the land without a raging fight

II

Who wants to be from War and Peace
The Fly against the loft sky
But we are all just flies
Traceless, each life in a dream it lies
Always to be awakened, bringing nothing and taking nothing
Why must we seek truth in a dream?
If we will forget them when we finally open our eyes
With joy, with sorrow
We witness death
Just so we would strive to stay alive
But why are we alive?
To prepare us for what?

III


Is it just for that half asleep, half awake
Shadowy, faint, and veiled memory?
Is it possible that when we truly open our eyes one day
We would still feel all that we’ve felt in the dreams?
Yes, in my brief nightly drowsiness, I have felt
Despair and happiness
And existed so profoundly!

Slumber or Awake, Illusion or Truth
Reality or Dream
There never was any true death or an end
I was always
Alive Alive Alive

I

Life is the only route
Between nothingness and the endless
Our birth on earth, and our perishing to dirt
Are both equal ends for the existing

And fools will simply rejoice in the illusive brevity
While sages prepare for the everlasting dance
And fools will take comfort in the darkness obscuring his sins
While sages prepare for the brilliance of the yonder light  
By already shining and basking in this life

II

I want to be from War and Peace
The Bee of such trivial and insignificant life
For we are all just bees
Unnoticed, but must exist
Why were we ever born to fly,
When true height is beyond this life?
Just for the pollen and nectar, taken and given?
Till bees return to the impermanent or the forever?
We will regret their absence then, bitterly and barrenly
Witnessing loss, just to learn to cherish
The existing.
But we exist, for what?

III

Is it just for that half asleep, half awake
Shadowy, faint, and veiled memory?
Is it possible that when we truly open our eyes one day
We would still feel all that we’ve felt in the dreams?
Yes, in my brief nightly drowsiness, I have felt
Despair and happiness
And existed so profoundly!

Slumber or Awake, Illusion or Truth
Reality or Dream
There never was any true death or an end
I was always
Alive Alive Alive

Conclusion:

Being alive
Is not just so we can die
That is completely meaningless
Being alive,
Is the only route
From nothingness to endlessness

Only having been once alive
Can you be resurrected
Only when you walk this road to the end
Will you find and continue the pave to the
Neverending Land

'Tis indignity, to pronounce your final decision.
Acknowledg’d and deriv’d from the stars,
I have been accustom’d to thee my sweet lady.

The world is withering like the fallen leaves
I can never tell where upon the terrace field
Of life, exploration. existence and will-
Are we nearing the end of our summit
Or merely crossing the drop of a hill
Ever far from the clouds, fringe of the pit
Are we at the very first rung of the fate wheel
Or are we edging rapidly towards the dip
Are we about to crush are we about to kneel
Are we losing our desperate clawing grips
Am I hearing welcoming drums or is this our knell
Is the thief of time silently vouching to steal
Our last supper our very last earthly meal
Or are we just crouching to brace The Greater Leap

The deep ache of societal idleness
Of Invisible pain and the unscarred
Thirsty for a hunger, but never to starve
Have-alls more lost than have-nots
Overlooked by seekers of poverty
Unvalued by those just like us

Never close enough to death
To grip existence for dear life

What is the cure to such tedium
Why have we come thus far
Is this the usual tail of prosperity
Or is it a sign of an unprecedented leap

I feel and already see
Great changes coming
A looming gloom or the unimaginable haven
Keep faith in the excitement
Of the never before felt
State of being and
Living

With the wonder
Of a child dreaming of the unknown
With fear and fearless hope
And
Love for it all

A colorless, eye-shaped smoke in the sky is my eyes,
That, instead of seeing, creates new skies,
New ground, and on it a new population.


None can be sure about my subjective realisation,
But what I see is more like a simplification
Of a horribly bad-mad world.


I myself am not sure how the colours are whirled;
The colours of dream- and under-world
As clothes in a washing machine.


Myself is supposed to whirl inside that machine,
Among the instinctive desires and unclean,
Inherited demands.


While my true existence that no one understands
Is beyond those dark-coloured commands,
Just dwelling for observation.

Now on a silent summer night
Caught me the melancholy.


I was walking, wandering,
Wondering 'where am I going'
On an empty dusty road
That my legs solidly followed.


Through the shaky street lamps' light,
Just one single word was brought out
By the blackguard of an endless see
Intruded from the deepest embassy.


'Élet', that was the foreign word,
Whose meaning ensnared the world:
La vie, Leben or any Life or birth,
Still just concepts holding little worth.


'Élet' I echoed by laughing,
And passed the road embarrassing
Myself by thinking of that notion
Which had never given me emotion.


A word which filled me with filthy void,
And made me unable to avoid
Falling into a senseless sorrow,
Lowering me lower and more low.


I got to be hardly stressed;
Why this mysterious word pressed
On me so cruelly the wrong,
Making me depressed a life time along.


Even if I should have cried for resort,
I was still walking sine a sort
In my mind that's not a garden of Eden,
Or just I was, by myself, mistaken.


In some or other fairy way,
My road was riding further away;
Just as in Don Quixote's battle of glory,
I was walking against Melancholy.