Irena, won’t you sing for me
The day is almost done
I see the sun’s long, glist’ning rays
Upon kissed altar stones

They bid goodbye to Daylight’s glee
As Dusk crawls in to keep
My world in constant pace despite
The tasks in mounting heaps

Irena, should you lose your song
Don’t weep, sky-speckled friend
For I have one to comfort me
And croon with Love no end

Like yours, her ballad fills my life
With harmony, pure light
My aging pen is a nightingale
In the deadness of the night.

stark

raw

naked lunch

loss

just words

they stare at me
every day

and I am still here
but you are gone

yet you are everywhere
now a conundrum

a Gordian Knot

whit howland © 2021

Master, master, master of Fire,
Bring me luck, bring me freshness
Bring me strength .
Bring me freshness
Bring me strength
Bring me desire...
The wheel to fire!


You left me here
You walked away
You betrayed me
You ****** me away!...


Master, master, master of None,
A ghost from the past...
Ghost, ghost ghost... Ha, ha, ha...
My life is your desire!

Your desire is Fire.
Mine is Water!


I came here to bring
some warm sand,
cold tea, cigarettes,
bad coffee but,
my Dear Enemy?! ...
" What' s your Desire?"

You left me here,
You walked away!
You betrayed me, thee ...


              BUT!


My Dearest Enemy,
Have you no more legs to walk,
Hands to "TALK"?


           Because,

You're a ghost...


           So,

If this is a SUPREME WORLD
then why CANNOT I find REASON
on this COLD SEASON.


Awake me !
Shake me!
Stimulate me
but PLEASE
don't hate me!


I cannot LEAVE
this LIFE anymore


               So,


If you jump,
I jump!
If you become bird,
I'll learn to fly too!

And if you die...
I'll become a GHOST!




Forgiven,
Not Forgotten,
Au revoir
Dovidjenja
Buon viaggio!






With love
Irena Adler

what is it with
the American taboo:
i'm writing perfectly
well
my head is on fire
i am sick
i woke up with a soar
sore
throat...
old company... old memories:
flood...
I... Irena...
i will flush these monsters
into their cribs
then i will decide
whether for what
they were born
but i am not angry
i will see Poland raise the dead
like Israel
and: how differ
id from ea...
on the altar of id the thought of ego
but also the images of id
i think
it imagines...
that's how thinking is processed
via the filter of the membrane
this Freudian Schematic is just more
Jungian verbiage:
just me words
in mein Arbecht Macht Frei Arsenal:
i am Millwall...