An open door
Closed windows
Looking into the depths of my soul
Can I really see anything
Or am I blamed for something I did not do
Can you catch a glimpse of what is truly in my heart
In my soul I am kind and free
Please take what you can from this and live
Waves come crashing down to destroy where we stood
Can you ever forgive for something I did not do
How and what you expect from me is not always up to you
If only there was no barrier in communication
From heat I drip condensation
All those sensations you have our nice and all
Passion comes from the truth inside
Not physical sensation that puts you on roller coaster ride
So united we stand divided we fall
You did this
You just say I do it all

I could cast my gaze toward anyone,
but connection comes in small moments of understanding:
When we direct our attention long enough to contemplate the colors,
To regard the size of the darkness we see the world from.
Sometimes we only catch a hit-and-run,
But when it sticks, when souls connect, and we see the other for who they really are,
It leaves me with something I can't forget,
My mind has yet to find a greater but just as simple communication in adoration of another creation.
There's something powerful in the one-on-one,
Undeterred by surrounding crowds or events in motion all around,
Eyes still meet and lock, no passing thing can break their talk.
With every burning second the mirrored sensation of optical reception resembles the sweet weariness of a Nordic midnight sun.
And then it breaks as thoughts swirl in passion heated from skylights.
The warmth runs through the whole body, just seconds filling every cold spot.
As the windows close no one knows, but those dark spots and colors burn in the silence.
I think you may understand, relate in some way, but in reality these words aren't for everyone.

I have seen a man
watching me stare
at him
with a sense of loss
through a
shiny shiny
mirrored window.
Once I slept
besides a red telephone and
hung up on the
human race.
Again, I have seen that man
watch me stare
at him
with a sense of loss
but this time
through a
less shiny
mirrored window...


- Samar Charulingah Godfrey

outside the window comes autumn outside the window goes
it goes slowly outside the window
outside the window is a favorite sweet time

outside the window snow rushing outside the window
fly they fly they are my joyful children
my yellow lovely leaves are running through the window

about how many years about how many days and hours
I breathe here among the houses in the middle of the moon
among the lanterns and among the stars alone


time passes it passes it rushes
flies and flies like a bird in the sky like cold
and how warm it all runs and runs

smiles and sorrows tears and dreams of joy and
only grief and love and gaze at the sea
all over and over with me all over and over

о the immortal melody
oh how much more will you be here oh how much
still i will be here such a sad joyful wanderer

07.10.18

Liquid silk drips from my fingers
My thirty eager fingers
Playing thirty eager chords
on my white and sprawling harp

Plucking at the strings
Like threads fine
silver and white
they shine
(it is night)

It is night and the world is dark
but for glimmering on my harp a single light
lamp like spotlight, hot overhead
i stretch my toes where they balance me on the ropes

sitting by cold glass
i watch the word go by
with my eight beady eyes
and wait for that promising fly
(it is night)

It is night and the word is still
but for my fingers plucking at the strings
of a heart-harp-home, contrast to my dark-clothed figure
silhouetted in the windowsill where i have a woven a tiny, quiet song

Windows ***** or clean
Each tell a unique story
Depending which side you're looking from
Are you looking from the outside in
Or from the inside out
Every soul has two eyes
Two windows
Together they talk about a journey
A journey that started a long time ago
Like the glare of the sun on a glossy window
Some try to hide their transparency behind tinted glasses
I've been there
Prevent the world from seeing inside
Kindness mistaken as weakness
Silence as a lack of confidence
When in essence silence speaks louder than words themselves
What shall we do with all the cracked windows
Broken and smashed
Lying on the ground
Stripped bare of value
However an oasis of splintered pieces
Could configure a formidable mosaic of Love

importantly find the key
the main thing is to find him finally
very important very necessary very
it is important as usual to find
this key you need to find it

but there were days and the wind was coming
and the keys were whether I had
I always went and went but from this
I just froze and stopped now
I can not walk anymore

I'm looking for an answer that used to be
I still have answers that used to be
who used to be with me I'm looking for answers
answers to noisy noisy wind
to the noisy noisy wind outside the window key

25.09.18