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thymos Apr 2015
contrails crossing on sky blue.
and you?
and me?
thymos Apr 2015
darkness,
such infinite darkness:
stargazing.
thymos Apr 2015
i contemplate my philosophotheatrics
amidst the anthroposcenery.
i’m a joke
and sometimes i can laugh at that.
i hope the gods unconscious enjoyed their comedy.

me a poet paramore of war
and laughter
afforded a good seat.

buddha without me buddha within me,
i choose the uncomfortable night,
there can be seen stars and things that need doing;
i think no longer will i sing and dance
with all the world ablaze
so enough of your death drum.
give it a rest.
i don’t often meditate though.
i mediate.
and meander towards the spectacle exit inferno
and contemplate
how to make fire burn fire
as a child of fire myself.
thymos Apr 2015
in-between cherry blossom
faces,
the dragon.
thymos Apr 2015
and these pictures and these
memories are great
but not my own eyes.
thymos Apr 2015
I

A smile: an indelible sight
I’ll forever be thankful for—
a smile: joy of cherry blossoms:
a gift unwittingly given.
How wonderful Spring can be
even when cold, even when distant.
From your celestial warmth
is brought forth a Springtime in my soul.
How marvellous to be captured in this
orbit—how spirit freeing this solace
even when torturous, even when crushing.
This fool – lacking – timidity riddled;
a better observer than active participant; pathetic
– a poor converser, unable to express elation
when faced with a friendly face
unless I’m an intoxicated buffoon –
crude, unbalanced, inept, apologetic

and lucky

beyond measure—
to be witness to such grace and beauty;
to be gifted such fun, memories, such life
worth each unending sorrow if only
for those few moments shared, even if only
promising me long bittersweet dreams—
crutches as I traverse solitude.

II

To have experienced this season
of Eastern daffodil – within time,
in the marrow of my wayward soul eternal –
redolent with your look, eyes I’m lost in,
the melody of your laughter, the majesty
of your intellect, your smile, your fire,
has vindicated the turning of this world.
A world with you in it; a world worth living in.
You deserve whatever you desire;
the abundant good you've given will be reciprocated
one day by someone,
some day fated – someone worthy –
for certain.
The event of you: an indelible star
– a source – that I shall forever be thankful for.

III

Contrails crossing on sky blue.
And you?
And me?
thymos Apr 2015
a dark night of the soul
long to remember
how bright the moon can be.
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