I believe the night to be beautiful And polite in its quiet understanding Of letting people be Alone with their monsters That others would never see For the dark cannot differ Between the shape and its shadow Nor cast colours by their causes Or ask more of friend and less of foe To night all belong Both the dreamer and its dreams The silence of frozen lakes And the songs of eternal streams But here in the deep Within the halls of man’s own mind The dark reigns ever awake In hope to one day find The answer all eyes seek Yet doubt to ever know; If the soul is but a seed That once then shall never grow…
I saw my children standing in the rain Their faces lined with age and late reason Watched the abandoned bicycles And broken seesaws Being pulled down by the weight of raindrops Their hands, long and thin, like dead seaweed in the summer wind Their legs green and gold, like new leaves suddenly old Seemed painted In the moist color of quiet The abandoned delight Having dissolved In the lament of the rain They turn; the motion a sad song An unfinished lullaby To look at me with eyes Half awake but never asleep As if I with my window earned wisdom Would know Why all things grow Only to die If life in the very virtue of living Is a lie But they know the answer As well as me It is better to forget than to believe what we see In the everyday aftermath Of the daily demise Of choices left to chances And promises made before goodbyes For in the end all paths Shall return where they began Even the oceans with all their eternity Are but remains of the rain…
All I can think about is dust and dusk And drowning in a shattered sea Made of glass Like a photograph of a falling man Who is never truly falling But eternally trapped With a suspended scream In an endless dream Like a dreamless wraith; Weightless and wordless As an orphan in death
But sometimes the night is too strong for me to sleep And the dreams I have are too dark for me to keep So I become a cobweb on the far wall Or a three pin plug lost in a socket Some crumpled paper on the floor Or a faded face in an old heart shaped locket A catharsis of cause Building prisons to be free An empty ship sailing An emptier sea
Where there is fog in the air And yet I stare Like a blind man blinking Without thinking at the sky Wondering in my own vacuum About the mute purpose of ‘Why’ With voices at the edge of my vision And footsteps at the back of my mind I am dreaming of being asleep And afraid of losing what I cannot find
Thus, in this black and white world In this sharp and smooth world In this loud and quiet world In this bitter and sweet world In this dull and fragrant world I shall remain awake Till a different tomorrow
I was born out of the blue Like a star without a face And shall one day be falling too As dust without a trace In hope that when I am gone Those very few whom I knew Kept something of the light With which their wish came true…
I am just another Diluted human being Strained with whetstone thoughts And rhinestone dream Tracing the echo of my footsteps In silent halls Sans any walls Was I born to burn And cling to life Like cigarette ash Dying and dying One breath at a time? I can hear the puppets talk At night Their voice Made of wood and string Mirrors of what the violin sing My tragedy and ivory A comedy and ebony My face is falling apart Like wallpaper And what’s beneath is no longer me It’s a different shade This bruise beneath the bandage I am alone And awake And I know That I ache Somewhere deep inside Where those things hide Which I keep So not to weep At every pain that passes Like needle through my arm For I am just another Diluted human being Strained with whetstone thoughts And rhinestone dream
I wore a blanket for a cape For only in dreams I can escape The mortal wounds So lovingly applied As an afterthought of ache
Oft nights when the world Is turning inside out Being snowflake proud of rainbow vomit and papier-mâché pyramids Growing in a mindless ocean of silver sweat I sit as stillness amidst the walls Like a spineless spider flat and small Aping what I think Is the rhythm I cannot find Do I mind? Do I mind? Stars falling like dandruff on blank shoulder of the night Do I mind? Do I mind? Knowing my common mind preaches that I am one of a kind
The cactus upon the windowsil Looks down on the street and see Other trees meditating Like monks on a subway free Half dead and half high Having two views of one life An ever burning driftwood Entombed in blue ice I am that monk That beggar with bright face Having known no sunshine, I shine Having known no misery, I make mine From the refrigerated leftover of a burnt down town Crying over T-shirts and Blazers, Tank tops and gown
The world with its thorned tendrils and tremors of love The world with its crow’s claws and feathers of a dove Knows the weight and cost of a coin unspent For this life; a tragedy, for this life; a parody Is best lived,unmeasured and as if each day is on rent
I have seen geisha queens Dance on aspen nights Play with children made of fire And love men afraid of light I have known threadbare hearts Bare it all upon the floor And yet be trodden upon Like a foot mat at the door And so much more, so much more I have seen and chosen to ignore The what if and why not The why now and not before So much more, so much more, now no more anymore
She was a painted panther Black skin and velvet dye Her eyes had all the answers But her lips knew when to lie Her home was a silver wasteland A piece of moon was her throne at night She spoke only in shadows And heard only the sound of light Her shape was god and movement And her name was without a face People worshipped her from far Like a pilgrim without a place And before long we all will be dreaming Her dreams on the final bed Where all eyes turn inward ever after And no more any word is said Because she was a painted panther Black skin and velvet dye Her eyes had all the answers But her lips knew when to lie
Let me go And I shall be Something akin To a memory My flesh it burns My bones they weigh The nights are tough And it’s hard these days For my soul it wanes Like wax neath flame And I know the pain To always feel the same Thus there is no way Where I can sow A seed of pearl For a sea to grow So I shall pass Through the veil of sand Alone with eternity Hand in hand…
I have seen Heroes Shinning alone on the battlefield Sword bare in bloodied hands Hiding tears behind their shield And the poets who wrote of courage Knew not from those sunlit tower That all wars are fought by them Who has no ounce of power
I have seen Teachers Cradling books in their velvet hand Certain of the wisdom beneath the words That the world fails to withstand And the pupils who stay blind And believe in it all Are kept to learn the truth Nailed as paintings upon the wall
I have seen Kings Holding heaven in their earthly palms Dive deep in the selfish seas And make fist while breathing alms And the people who praise the lord For the health of the dear monarch Knows not that the hand which feeds Is the one that lays the nark
I have seen Saints Swimming in the grey, tepid pool alone And where hundreds had fallen The saints could never drown A miracle that belonged to them Not by the blessings of the Throne But because of the fact that the misery Was not of their own
Dear, I know it is too late to write It’s midnight here too, the sun is lying dead at the bottom of the ocean With the dry lipstick caps You left. I rinsed their marks off the sink you know, The bold maroon, the autumn orange and the pink of summer blossoms I hope you are wearing something else now A colour I could never know; otherwise all the bite marks you left Like a river of pain From the nape of my neck to the small of my back Dividing me; amongst myself Would be futile.
See! No you cannot, but I am, seeing The stars, do you know they are long gone And the light that we are looking at Is no more true than those promises we made In bed, everyday Looking at each other Melting under the red haze of love Or else I would not be alone Straddled between both lampshades Stretched midst two lights And the same, same darkness Shifting me out of sight
And yet, oh yet I miss You with your half asleep smile Carefully constructed To be dreamlike I miss the time when we were us Shared shadows in the day And in night our silhouettes I miss your half baked cake And bitter burnt coffee With me humming the song You love at three; in the morning Watching just watching Nothing at all But the same thing Always the same
There was a time when I used to write for you When I should have written about, But I was naive; eggshell white, A crystal goblet balanced upon the edge of a two-legged table Drunk with my own wine And I know the fault was mine As ever the fault was mine Flowers wilted and the fault was mine Winter came and the fault was mine Nothing remained Everything changed It began again And the fault was mine And so I am no more Than a corpse carrying out a chore Dreaming of a world before It broke upon my door Oh yes well before I even built the door…
