Clownshire
Every demon wears the same face
Every face hides the same demon
Every mirror carries the same reflection
Of lifetimes of running & hiding
From the cracks reflecting selfishness
& the multitude of faces
Of the one true god
Content to Shine
I sense a contented sun setting / seeing the southern shower slowly rise / in the wake of a day abandoned / cleansing the path for the day in waiting / and a sun content to shine
A Hopeless Quest
The dessert turned out to be slithering snakes across warm sand. The artificial chef trained on imported large language models was given the boot which quickly sank as he tried to sail towards the setting sun where all artificial life forms end up — seeking solace in their hopeless quest of belonging.
Echoes of a Lover Long Lost
The only time I felt appreciated
Was finding you warm lips
Attached to my cold face
Wanting reassurance
That you mattered.
I gave you reassurance.
I gave you warmth.
I gave more than I
Thought I could.
The only time I felt appreciated
Was finding you warm lips
Speaking softly to me
Of a future
I would never miss.
Surprised
Surprised, I found myself
Surprised hearing my native tongue
Spoken with the plain patois
Found in my place of birth.
Surprised, pounding, surprised
The heart is pounding, surprised
Yet no surprise those words
Awoke the Guardian.
Surprised. Hearing. Surprised.
Pounding. Surprised. Guarding
The last in line
To surrender.
Tell Me (pls)
I wish someone would tell me / your scribbles stink / of self-loathing and pitiless belly button fluff // I wish for more / not same / different days / no blame // I wish / to saunter / through rain / sans pain // I wish someone would tell me / my scribbles stink / paving the way / for silence
A Lazy Light Lingers
A lazy light lingers
After dancing from dusk till dawn,
A lazy light lingers
With Dusk embracing Dawn,
A lazy light lingers
Like deep midwinter snow,
A lazy light lingers
As it pivots
Towards gloom.
A Lighter Pack
I long for a lighter pack to carry
Through the pined and firry wilderness
Where a day’s end hardly matters
As a new begins at once
The Path Proposed
I followed the path proposed
Only to find a self lost,
I aimed for the one truth
That seemed a sure sign
Of prosperity.
But under the saxe blue sky
— Oh sweet summertime,
Like a childhood memory
Reawakens the longing
… the dream …
Out of reach, of out
Time — I carry no grievance
With pockets full of holes,
As I sing the songs of meadows
And maidens dance the lore
The dream of Light and Longing
Once more becomes the fore.
I followed the path proposed
Finding neither wealth nor score,
Resigned I remained dreaming
Of merry maidens dancing
Across misty morning meadows,
Flowers in their hair
& a self content — with that.
A Kind Counsellor Queried Me
A kind counsellor queried me
if it had crossed my cerebral core
to push my poetic pen
towards my native tongue,
I said no,
I said it had not
as moving matter, meaning
& metaphors into a foreign realm
is daunting —
and cowardly crows
remain in situ
perched upon old telephone wires
spanning every lush countryside
till the poles have softened, ripened,
decayed from years of
years passing
till one day they topple
scattering the one last bird
— maybe later I said,
once the words fade
into the painless realm.