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"kalender" poems
It appeared as if the very air were asleep. Even the dark was asleep. An harmonica stained the night with itself. An ache that stole into the soul. Snowflakes fell in slow slow-motion as if they were sleep walking. Time seemed to so- lid-if-y congeal about the moment frozen like a rabbit in the headlights of life. "Why me!" the moment seemed to say "Why me?" "Awww shut up!" I told it. It shut up. An obese moon like a stray dog tried to follow me home but home was the other side of an ocean. Still, it dogged my every step. The blind man kept on playing as if he were the soundtrack to the film I had become. NYC was nothing like its movies. Only the cold was real. I dropped change into the blind man's tin cup. It made a music all of its own. He looked at me with both his ears. He smiled with all of his self. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE got lost in the ensuing silence. He mumbled a thanks in an unknown tongue maybe Klingon. The moment kept on trying to find meaning like an unsure actor asking what's its motivation. There was none to be found. My footsteps walked away almost leaving me behind. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE started up again as if the night had pressed PLAY. "Well....I'll be Rimsky Korsakov'd!" I attempted a smile. It hurt. The harmonica's voice eclipsed by the police siren.
0
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
donall-dempsey
SO: SCHEHERAZADE ME!
It appeared as if the very air were asleep. Even the dark was asleep. An harmonica stained the night with itself. An ache that stole into the soul. Snowflakes fell in slow slow-motion as if they were sleep walking. Time seemed to so- lid-if-y congeal about the moment frozen like a rabbit in the headlights of life. "Why me!" the moment seemed to say "Why me?" "Awww shut up!" I told it. It shut up. An obese moon like a stray dog tried to follow me home but home was the other side of an ocean. Still, it dogged my every step. The blind man kept on playing as if he were the soundtrack to the film I had become. NYC was nothing like its movies. Only the cold was real. I dropped change into the blind man's tin cup. It made a music all of its own. He looked at me with both his ears. He smiled with all of his self. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE got lost in the ensuing silence. He mumbled a thanks in an unknown tongue maybe Klingon. The moment kept on trying to find meaning like an unsure actor asking what's its motivation. There was none to be found. My footsteps walked away almost leaving me behind. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE started up again as if the night had pressed PLAY. "Well....I'll be Rimsky Korsakov'd!" I attempted a smile. It hurt. The harmonica's voice eclipsed by the police siren.
Continue reading...
77
SO: SCHEHERAZADE ME! It appeared as if the very air were asleep. Even the dark was asleep. An harmonica stained the night with itself. An ache that stole into the soul. Snowflakes fell in slow slow-motion as if they were sleep walking. Time seemed to so- lid-if-y congeal about the moment frozen like a rabbit in the headlights of life. "Why me!" the moment seemed to say "Why me?" "Awww shut up!" I told it. It shut up. An obese moon like a stray dog tried to follow me home but home was the other side of an ocean. Still, it dogged my every step. The blind man kept on playing as if he were the soundtrack to the film I had become. NYC was nothing like its movies. Only the cold was real. I dropped change into the blind man's tin cup. It made a music all of its own. He looked at me with both his ears. He smiled with all of his self. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE got lost in the ensuing silence. He mumbled a thanks in an unknown tongue maybe Klingon. The moment kept on trying to find meaning like an unsure actor asking what's its motivation. There was none to be found. My footsteps walked away almost leaving me behind. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE started up again as if the night had pressed PLAY. "Well....I'll be Rimsky Korsakov'd!" I attempted a smile. It hurt. The harmonica's voice eclipsed by the police siren.
0
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 6:48 AM UTC
donall-dempsey
SO: SCHEHERAZADE ME!
SO: SCHEHERAZADE ME! It appeared as if the very air were asleep. Even the dark was asleep. An harmonica stained the night with itself. An ache that stole into the soul. Snowflakes fell in slow slow-motion as if they were sleep walking. Time seemed to so- lid-if-y congeal about the moment frozen like a rabbit in the headlights of life. "Why me!" the moment seemed to say "Why me?" "Awww shut up!" I told it. It shut up. An obese moon like a stray dog tried to follow me home but home was the other side of an ocean. Still, it dogged my every step. The blind man kept on playing as if he were the soundtrack to the film I had become. NYC was nothing like its movies. Only the cold was real. I dropped change into the blind man's tin cup. It made a music all of its own. He looked at me with both his ears. He smiled with all of his self. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE got lost in the ensuing silence. He mumbled a thanks in an unknown tongue maybe Klingon. The moment kept on trying to find meaning like an unsure actor asking what's its motivation. There was none to be found. My footsteps walked away almost leaving me behind. TALES OF THE KALENDER PRINCE started up again as if the night had pressed PLAY. "Well....I'll be Rimsky Korsakov'd!" I attempted a smile. It hurt. The harmonica's voice eclipsed by the police siren.
Continue reading...
78