Saturday, April 21, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
You swallowed me in the depth
of your eyes,
And I melted in the waves
of your voice
As I tasted the strength
of your emotions.
In the madness of the
sweet, smooth rush
of this goodness
You embraced me in the
promise of your hold
And I believed in you.
In my drunken stupor
to your fantastic promise
I kissed the dust
of your boots.
And while in my state of shock
Gloom hangs in the air,
A lot too, lately.
Pain becomes almost cosy,
Even more so these days.
Dawn tells of my failed yesterdays
because mornings drag in bitterness,
cold and a crispy taste
and my emasculate will,
almost overwhelmed, summons it.
Yet with every dawn
A promise of the end of now,
Of the start of a tomorrow.
As dawn tells of my fizzled past,
I see in your innocence, an assurance for me
Igniting the flame
Of my extinguished inclination and
Dusk reminds me of you.
There is a bit on trust,
You don’t want to know,
And I am not telling.
Your eyes are closed,
You grope at the elephant
And grab a hold of its tail
That is all you understand.
There are fatter
Fleshier and even rougher sides
Than that skinny hairy tail in
There is more to me than what
You are caressing.
I wish you’d look at me.
Friday, April 13, 2012
I've been staring at the sky all day
Trying to live off the sun's rays.
All I got from it was a headache .
I'm searching for the right end of the rainbow
You'd think it should be easy
See, as I am on the wrong end of it.
I saw the sun's faces. Smiles and frowns and
A couple of boo-to-you. It closed its eyes.
And I saw the moon rise with a purple smile
With cotton candy under its feet
I'm searching for some luck from the shooting star
Just a dash to help me stand.
I've been talking all day to the clouds
Especially the big, dark scary ones.
I've been pleading for some rain to cool off
This feisty soul of mine.
Can't seem to be predictable and it hurts
To be too simple to be understood.
I finally perceived as I prayed to the moon.
That it's totally pointless
To hope for what does not exist.
It's becoming quite predictable - this soul dance.
And the faster it gets, the clearer I see
That being a loner is becoming quite cosy
And it's becoming quite ME.