so much for saying

the early chill
and the lazy bones
pointing at
a long winter
of no action
and to add to it
a throat congestion
and stiff muscles
im thinking im
dying without you baby
in fact i am
in an endless fall
clutching your glove
look you tried to
save me baby
but i slipped on satin
and dip to hell
from deep below now
i promise to you
i'll be a flower
in your garden
look out for me in spring

blood into blood

through the times
through the ages
through the wars
and the purges
it's only you
you i have loved
and through
the black darkness
of night in the forest
and on the plains
of blinding light
it is your call, your vision
that draws me forth
to come close gently, slowly
over millennia
one hot inch at a time
but the distance between you
and i, is not space or time
you are always here
and always with me

the gulf between
is all the work of hands
that needs to be protected
from the unchained spirit

civilisation is the wall
we'll have to bring down
to have nothing
nothing come between us again

the second hand

im a traveller of minutiae
not of meridians or
of the sun crossing the hemispheres
in great swathes of light
but of things that are illuminated
just for a moment and retreat
again into darkness,
quiet, silent, unknown
im the hollow echo of the night
of the unmoving stillness of trees
and the lakes and buildings
in the lonely sigh of twilight
im the measure of passing time
in my bones have civilizations aged
in my dust are empires disappeared
and i move neither forward
nor backward but
between the two
ends of life
i am a boat unfastened
a thought untethered
not for me the journey
from untruth to truth
from death to life
and from light to darkness
but to let all and everything
pass through me
as i spin, spin wildly
round one small axis
east to west

raining carnation

the pen pencil the page
havent changed
or have they you say
you see im coming
after too long to this place
although i was here
maybe yesterday
i hope none can tell and
nobody knows how time
flies and how the gulf widens
between the continents
that kind of information
only breaks my heart and
im so helpless that
as time flies
i follow on slow feet
and am afraid that i'll never
reach anywhere
but drawing myself a small arc
and within that narrow
circumference leave and return
again and again to
always the same things and
at those moments dont
tell me please that i was
here before that it was another time
which i can never relive and that
even the place is different
because i want to be new
to the old old things that
fill my horizon
and whenever i look up
believe that im seeing the sky
for the first time