Friday, August 21, 2009

Neutral shades

‘tis neutral shades that rule the day
like women who are known to be
without, within, and round about
the dictates of a mortal life.

The colour swatch of passion, grief,
awaits a willingness to be
pushed and pulled and swung around
the totem pole of happenings.

There is no wish to ride the wave
of wanting, needing, wishing for
a better “this", a grander “that",
and a love not meant to be.

And neutral welcomes in the night
to sleep within that state of mind
but soon the dawn cancels all
and colour is again the norm.

Neutral prays, indeed it does,
to stay within the colour wheel
but in the field of all it feels
to not be tainted by the world.

The world, the world, the thief of love,
and taker of essential grace,
show your colours but desist
from imbuing the unique!

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The sea

The sea came in from way out there
where love’s a stable entity
to tell of many grandiose things
and the beauty of it all.

But the shore possessed of seashells, grit,
and discarded human garbage
could not absorb or understand
the sea’s need and wish to be
the bearer of good tidings.

Sea stayed a moment, just a bit,
before the toss and turn
that forevermore will silence
the tongue of one who loves.

Forevermore’s the damndest thing;
it’s how ever long it needs to be
but I know the sea and how she moves
along the grid of her beliefs.

She believes, you see, in evermore
and how what is remains to be
a memory not ere expunged
with the changing of the tide.

And the grid is one straight line
not curled and intertwined
like waves that come again, again,
unto that selfsame shore.

The sea, the sea, may she not be
one to rest amongst the grit!

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Ordinary love

Not yet but soon to be a prince
the one who dubbed his mother “queen”
and served her with the humbleness
of ordinary love.

It is and always has been
the core of ordinary
that begets a wave unleashed
upon the population
because one of all and everything
divides, divides, divides,
and then multiplies
to crash upon the shore
of the unaware.

But the wave no soothing murmur
to lull the senses, dull the pain,
but a roar of deep intensity
that shocks and shakes composure
to the point of change.

And change no sweet surrender
until resistance like a sponge
absorbs the meaning, reasons,
and bows in acquiescence.

Now forsaking all that went before
the queen bows to the prince
as I now bow to love
that invisibly divides, divides,
and multiplies
in walking, talking, fortresses.

But love, dear love, so slow and sure
must still get to the core
and fortresses are fortresses
until the door is opened!

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Through the maze

So through the maze of goods and clothes
she stepped into a dark recess
where memories lay hidden away
from the prying eyes of everyday.

And in that day of everyday
she chose a route that skirted pain
and smiled the smile of one who knows
love will surely come again.

But still she cried within the feel
of what means more than goods and clothes
as like a retarded maniac
she shredded the leftovers
until but one remained.

It remains until this very day
to go where minds are prone to go
and follow in the footsteps of
her more and many everyday’s.

Love is like that, don’t you know?
It lives in caves dark, dingy, grey,
so all who walk the maze of time
can sift amongst the dirt and grime
and say, “Eureka! Love is mine!"

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The tree man and the witch

So the tree man and the witch
cuddled up in bubble wrap
safe and sound cocooned within
a world meant just for two.

Sadly so the time will come
when hands of flesh and bone
will destroy their paradise
and place them in a strange place
cold apart alone.

They will move according to
the dictates of sheer ignorance
and pretend at their contentment
from morn until the full moon
of awakening.

Then the tree man will shed his bark
and settle into gentleness
and the witch will cast her spells
into the garbage can
and together they will stand
as the plain and ordinary.

And the plain and ordinary
like the simple you and me
no statues carved in stone
but breathing, feeling, entities
en route to stardom!

Sunday, August 9, 2009


She didn’t stop to look amazed
at the progress of the flame
from slow to fast and furious,
from loving to indifferent,
and from belief into the chasm
of uncertainty.

Instead she stopped to look amazed
at the wind of happenstance
that reduces love’s tall stature
to the likeness of
liquid candle wax.

Breathe! She breathes and yet the wind
moves quickly out from deep within
into the world where candles stand
burning. burning, burning.

And she lights her loving candles
to look amazed again, again,
at the melt and solidify
after the flame has died.

From what love was to what it is
and she sighs before the cast aside
of the distorted and disfigured
made useless by the flame
and the wind of happenstance
brought up from the depths
of his or her or my
unbeknown and inherent
wilful intent.