time – Page 7 – three good words

March 2, 2015

inside/out

inside
toffee squared floors
denote rays of the sun, crossing
plants on the sills, watered
blooming bright to those
without, within

fingertips pressing cluttered keys
E and N already fading
triple m’s: memos, messages, mailing-lists
quick notes, live feeds
movie clips

in all the alphabets
known to woman, man
written, read
and used again

—

outside
cars rush far, park and run
jets and liners rolling
arrivals, departures
boarding, patrolling
vapor trails on asphalt

wind rising
sun-dimmed clouds
swelling with collected water
no more fears of acid rain
there is far more to worry about
these days
the news? don’t start
dante’s inferno’s nothing to that

click, swipe, push it away
the poor souls, so horrible
what are we having for dinner tonight?
what a long, exhausting day

—

inside/out
a moment, secluded
inhale, exhale
heartbeats tripping
excitement, peace
a stillness humming
beyond the din of the streets

sequins, cashmere
sheer wool, silk
plastic cards denote ownership
warmth, rest
eat, drink
ordered, structured
breathing

so many bodies moving
so many minds thinking
so many hearts, beating

all with one hope
that one true thing:
prosperity

February 9, 2015

a heartbeat of peace

tweedle dee
tweedle dum
tweedle what the

seriously, was that necessary?
i was just walking here
in search for tea (or coffee)
accosting unsuspecting women in scrubs

yes, i’m kind o’ lost
you have that cardboard cup
where’s the next [insert name here]

startled, staring
one look and she knows
i’m harmless, stranded
someone dusted away the road
as in: sans wi-fi
there is no use for my phone

coffee, yes, or tea
one way or the other
it’s equal to me
all i really want is a bit of rest
a hot drink, a bite to eat
a small space for me

a smile, a turn
see that light?
the third one?
yes, right there
a nod, a smile
thank you, goodbye
but silently i’m going quite spare
thirsty and hungry
so in need for a chair

yet on it goes
down sidewalks, filling
past corners, spilling
with cars and humans, all
walking, walking
no time for stopping
until I reach the door, walk in and

exhale

sit down, look out and see
all the people, once more
all the haste
tick-tock!
all the pushing, running
one dare not be late
late!

and so when standing in line i wonder:
why not dare and be late?
just once, for the sake of joie-de-vivre
happiness
quietude
inner peace
the everyday art of just letting life be

but no
all these people
falling down rabbit holes
mile high and eerie – ma’am?
oh, soon it’s me
wait, let’s see
:eat me: :drink me:
a bit of this, some of that
all combined to
ah yes, this (?)
it seems to be both coffee and tea

i’m adventurous, i’ll try it
choose it and buy it
take the cup and walk over to a free seat
sit back and eat a little
drink a little and rest
exhale once more
and enjoy this heartbeat of peace
this small space
just for me.

January 4, 2015

imagine once

there is something in the silence of the clear lines,
the divine arches of the old orders, now long lost in time
where silver and marble, wheat, amber and gold
were the wealth of a few amongst many;
that time, once, so far away
celebrated today in lands of plenty
a time, once, where life was short, hardship unquestioned,
and the sweetness of solace a luxury felt to the core.

A time, yes, when fire was known for its ecstatic warmth,
the flames divine and terrible, their power
and presence felt too often on human skin and human soul;
a time, too, when water was the sword of truth
by which holiness was divined, though to drink it alone was unwise
unless in beer, ale, or wine;

that time where earth and air were powers that gave and took
that made and broke whole realms with wind and weather and storm,
by the droughts so dreaded, and crops finally growing,
the rains prayed for , the sun steadily glowing…

…can we, today, in our lands of plenty
imagine once, just once, what it meant to be, to live, back then
when time was sun and moon and stars,
legends holy and sung, the songs of praise whispered and hummed
over open fires, heating the cauldrons that fed all in house and hut,
after thanking with grace and gratitude
the great, the holy, the one clouds 1

November 13, 2014November 19, 2014

blind walls

…what do you want to
write about
fight about
in the cave of your mind

where blind walls of irrelevance
rise high, so high

where the mystery
of abstraction
lies in wait to catch you out
trip you up

just when you thought you had it
by using the whole alphabet
of thoughts, words, music, feeling
unsaid, unspoken

stretching out like hills rolling
landscapes wide
a whole geography of me to you to me
and everyone else in between

populating the presence
of so many memories
hanging like tapestries
in wide open halls

where in the heat of before
what is known
is quietly sung at night
in that small corner

that hidden place
where you sit and play
on heart strings, melodious

in that rhythm and space
where a look, a glance
long past

are still warm to the touch
of the quintessential
the almost holy
from me to you to me
once more

November 5, 2014November 5, 2014

what was once

a look changes
in the sky
dark
where light lies forgotten
lost in endlessness
might

gone is the time
when we were nothing more
than ours
yours and mine
yoursandmine

why is there a price
for everything that is high
up on the clouds
nine and mine and yours
ours
forever
almost

crested waves of laughter
spill slowly
in the warmth
of the fire that sheds
a light fantastic
in the heat of
smooth warm lengths
that carry loneliness

…

and there is a memory
that smiles in sadness
when you wish there had been
more of a yes
than a flat-out no

where, when

like the thinness of
overused velvet
what was once
that and that

and that, yes
so…
lovely, lovingly
alive

was spent, rent
twisted
into unrecognition