A shadow like me
Its leaves are blacker than black
Against the grey sky

Post-apocolypse
A cloud of billowing ash
In the aftermath

Of Vesuvius
Rain falls on cold embers
In this film noir

As my hair turns black
And clumps, black as rotten stumps
Black as mottled roots
Clung to a pale corpse

Droplets play in golden light
Then a lightning strike
The gravel sound
Angels passing on the ground

Wandering lost as moths
From light to light
My eyelids hang heavy
Ready to close me out

Phoenix in the night
Burning
Burning her broken heart

[ I ]
The window framed the quiet scene
My still mind had painted there
Pastel shades of grey and white
That sailed across an ocean sky
To travel right and disappear

I felt her personality
In choice of subject, her use of colours
So vibrant and true
Though I knew

That all great art
Is channeled, not thought
A piece taken from the heart
To be planted anew

[ II ]
At night the lights were dotted lines
Along the shore,
Glittering
Orange and incandescent

As the crescent moon sent her light reflected
To shimmer fragmented and grey
On endless waves
I ran along

The sea wall
Drunk on love and beer
Singing "Hallelujah" with hair trailing
Feeling perfect as a rose in the rain

There's a halo in the clouds,
A rainbow that glides
With the crescent moon

The day is spent, the moments gone
I come up for air at every one
And forget the last

The moments pass
They come from where?
Someplace close but far from here
Like a song I can't quite recall

As my face rests on the fogged-up glass
Eyelids flash. A drop of rain falls
Onto my tongue, and I fall asleep
In the backseat of the car

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.

Cover me in the pigment of your skin,
Trace my flaws with fingertips and watch as they diminish.
Help me find god, I’ll call to him in a quiver-
A prayer laid in your ears, by a gentle whisper.
Snake your arms around my spine as it slithers into shivers.

Twist my frame into a beggar,
“Please, sir, I want some more.”
You’re a giver to the paupers,
Benevolent and adored;

Paint me as many pictures, in many forms
Create something beautiful for others to behold
With your talent and your care, your body and your words.

-SLuR