Favourite haunts
the orchestra keeps on playing
in the stillness of these violet nights
silhouetted in the waning gardens.
it goes on like the infinite inner gale
as weeds grow over my doorless house.
cold shards of the dying empire;
the geometry of the labyrinth;
shipwrecks of my fringe aspirations;
visions of faraway misgivings;
– a smile yet unsmiled, a life once lived,
I’m longing for the other self
I could have been.
ebb away along the graveyard benches
along the sphinxes and stagnant pools
torpid and lost in the sleep alleys.
precise as a clockwork wish collector
one day I’ll abandon the boat
atone the malaise of my black flora.
dethroned & desolate;
splintered among the poets of doom;
a dreary descent into vanity;
I’m weary like a horse running backwards.
still guilty of a victimless crime,
possessed & embittered
by the mystics of misfortune.
there’s no escape from the prison I’ve built
from prodigious lands of dead elegance
and the fatigue of this death fixation.
I’ll try to stay unmoved, hermetic
walk side by side with dusks and mists
live in my own sordid place of beauty;
the destiny is the voyage itself,
the child lived for one fine sunny day.
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