Wednesday, February 21, 2007

A life Dreamt

I dreamt of thunder, I dreamt of light ,
And of tremulous rain.
The enchantress enchanted roved the night,
As the gruesome sun went insane.
The valley of dreams was lit up by fireflies,
While I sat with the storming winds.
And the river spoke of a lover’s cries,
Destroyed by the foolish grin.
Then you woke me with a touch and a smile,
As a song played across the street.
The weed that I stole from the river on the sly,
Caught fire from our heartbeat.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Seers Grin

Why did you grin that day? When i called you a grinning fool.

Perhaps because you could see the future while i was still stuck in the past.
Perhaps because what i had dreamed into existance was but a ticking time-bomb that was only waiting to go off.
Perhaps because you knew that it would all turn to dust in a few minutes, like it did.
Perhaps because you could see what i refused to.

And so you grinned. From behind the clouds.

Thursday, February 8, 2007


Pots and pans and the Tinman,
they all drowned that night.
When roses bled,
into the watershed,
And clouds joined the fight.

I looked into a hollow eye,
that held fingers of sunshine.
It reminised the death of pilion dreams,
and stifled screams,
No pilion dream, nor bleeding rose, tinmen make headlines.

Friday, February 2, 2007

if only...

If only roses bled.
They would lie in a pool of deep red blood, where green thorns would drown.
Drown and die. In a lake, dark red, green thorns would drown and die.
A red death.

If only roses bled.
They would not burn on autumn nights. Burn and turn to grey-black ash on deep blue nights.
Their hearts would not turn to dust, that floats on the dry air.
They would not die on blue nights, choked by grey-black ash.
A grey-black death.

And the police officer didn't register the complaint of the death of the roses.
The grey-black death of the roses on the blue autumn night.
Perhaps he would have registered a red death of roses in a pool of red blood.

Maybe.....if only roses bled.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

yet again..

yet again... i think of you.

For no reason at all. Just like then. Just as i loved you. Without reason.

Was it the mid - winter rain?Or perhaps the brown afternoon light.
The song on the radio or the white flowers that i see everyday on my way?

You are not here. Just like then. Without reason.

And yet again... i laugh at the dying sky.