—On the Sight That Waited for You—
Did I love then? My sight had learn’d to lie,
and clothed each apparition in borrowed light;
I kiss’d the dawn and watch’d the western sky,
and deem’d the numinous in mortal sight.
I call’d the rain’s pale argent fall divine,
made vanishing a sacrament of flame;
and made each fugitive splendour a shrine,
and gave the passing world an endless name.
Till thou didst enter—and the very air
seem’d suddenly vacat’d of what it feign’d;
the rain still silver’d every waiting stair,
yet through each interstice the dark remain’d.
I kiss’d thy hand—and all my heavens knew
their light had only been rehearsing you.
The stutter a stammer that
Holds the air
An incisive question to fill the space
Only to know it needed none
To bridge the gap
Between us
There at the beginning of the day's edge
or late in the day, early in the night
they missed each other
coming and going, brief interstice of sun and moon...
time to love...!
it's called interstice
this fast fragment.
something almost colorless,
fleeting:
our life of a few years.
unfair accounting, of course
to a death that will be eternal.
a little time odyssey...
but it was worth seeing
the smile of someone who loved you,
it was worth listening
melancholy songs
that made us think and grieve,
it was worth tasting
unexplained sensations.
but we billions are still lost
struggling against the walls
of labyrinth life.
there's a balm somewhere,
something that justifies
everything we had to go through.
now please let's rest,
tomorrow we will see
in the clouds of the sky,
what paths will we still have
to laugh and cry.
There at the beginning of the , edge of day
or at the beginning of the day, finale of the night
they sadly missed each other
coming and going
brief interstice of sun and moon...
time to love...
Transparent
Looking at life on the otherside of a glass frame
Beyond a vacant image
It is raining, i want to be there
Empty the words as they fall like flat notes in a monotone,
Out of a silent tongue
The speech is hollow
I want to be living not dying
Trapped within an interstice
A bleeding masquerade of incisions
Cold quintessence,
The thoughts take flight, im stood standing next to the wet glass looking through this window of the living
Close but so far
Lights of contrast glisten in this illuminated waiting room of versicolored dreams
What am i waiting for?
How can i get to the otherside of the glass without shattering into pieces, cutting and wounding my paper skin
This vacant image, like candle wax it melts to a gloss as the lights are blown out
Left in black
The grey window still shines a dim light of monochrome.
Like a cold frosted lens on an old camera, it flickers as the shutters blink
The brightness is calling me
The photo is over exposed
The necktie wearers, and flag pin bearers
Combing arcane smiles
With not one word out of place
Colluded to recreate
Pearl harbor's reincarnate
History's wounds slashed by new swords
A mirror of quondam contempt
Semblance of peace sat behind a podium
Truths interstice fogged
Aridity of public sentiment
Proved a deserted nature of love
Thirsty for blood of whom we know not
Patriotism painted from a teleprompter
As cobblers cleaned and mended
The boots which young feet filled
Whilst scoundrels signed a death waiver
For workers to pluck cold limbs
And prepare the fields
Where black gold geysers
Diluted the red stained, hallowed ground
Commissioned were penny whistles
And morts moaning on cue
For quarry men slouched
In the dirt, for eternal rest
Before rhetoric trumped up heroism
The azure above was clear and crisp
Til mercurial darkness was summoned
On desolations blooming row
As pinwheels kept on spinning
At the home of those who plot
Another stratagem, another canvas
To splatter blood upon
A somnolent trilogy of Greek hubris
Hero journeys into infernal abyss
Blinded by salty pride and avarice
Seeping into Poseidon's lair, nothing amiss
Swept along by steely reserve, prowess
Bounded by fate and drifting malice
Flooded by trials, providential interstice
Curdled by envy, lathering jaundice
Odysseus's rite of passage into briny bliss
Travails on high seas; champion listless
Brackish bilge, undulating fervour, blanching rigamortis
Beached by despair, marooned by injustice
Stranded by capricious swells and divine artifice
Quarantined by chilling fears; bleaching cowardice
Mirror, Mirror on the wall..
Secrets told, to enthrall.
If walls could talk of stories foretold.
The truth and lies, of the young and the old.
Creaky floors, heave a sigh.
In the purlieu, where feet danced spry.
Doors held on by rusted hinges.
Swung open and closed through the ages.
Cobwebs interstice between unknown entities.
Invaders tip toe; the enemy retrieves its bounty.
Closets full of untold skeletons.
Of ambiguous answers of their wantons.
Cracks finger up and down, the old white ceilings.
Weathering takes its toll around the old dwelling.
The eyes of the house have seen many things.
Through the decades of beatings and blessings.
Dust has settled upon the dilapidated edifice.
Waiting to be reintroduced and resurrected.
My pearl
In front of me;
Sparkling
Shining
And fragile;
A young pearl indeed.
My only treasure
I have in this world
Beside my true self
In a second,
It fell
In the Deepest water;
Like the giant titanic
At the watch of
Ice and wind.
I looked at my true self,
It fell too …
At the same depth,
And the same speed.
I dove down
To reach the bottom
Seeking
My pearl;
Despite
The cold,
The depth,
And my short breath.
…
…. I saw it!
Lodged in one big
Coral
Interstice;
Her natural
Birth place;
Among
Her sibling
.... Anemones, Krills, Urchins,
... Clown and Puffer fishes
... Also sharks.
I do not fear the shark.
I fear to bother
The beauty of the reefs.
I dragged myself up
To the surface
To breath,
And swallow a piece of the blue sky
In order
To make another
Last attempt
To fill my eyes
And My life
With the picture
Of my lost pearl,
The corals,
And the reefs.
I am who
Came from the deep desert;
Frayed
Under the sun,
And sweat
By the dunes.
I still respect
Nature,
Beauty,
And integrity.
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