Curious

“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”
Banksy

Premonitions
                              Premonitions

Some say they’ve went there, to the other side.

That’s what they’ll tell you after they died.

The tickers kick’n and soon I’ll know

Whether this day I’m livin’ is my day to go

What do you do on the way out the door

When what you see, you’ll see no more

About these things I’m curious to ask

tripping the other side of the living mask

So my friends and lovers dear

who I hold both now and there

On the other side will you come with me

and find out what’s beyond that nether sea?

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Estranged –

“The distant soul can shake the distant friend’s soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.” ― John Masefield

bibliophilebunny
  bibliophilebunny
Stares into the fires of what used to be
Longing for a shore on this endless sea

Then and still she rejects me

Glares into the mirror of what is to see
Glancing back just the bare image of me

Then and still she blames me

Pairs thrown into storms of life do believe
Splitting again to separate entities

Then and still she’s a part of me

First published in Opinions Of Eye

Harmony of Red

“I hear the question upon your lips: What is it to be a colour? 
Colour is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness…
I’m so fortunate to be red! I’m fiery. I’m strong. I know men take notice of me and that I cannot be resisted.” – Orhan Pamuk,
My Name is Red

 

Mceklips
I hear the harmony of red, the sound coloring
the morning and evening blanket of night.
Tactile hallucinations of reality, melody of tints
bringing peace to spinning clouds.
Expressions of earths fiery embers, born in my soul,
songs of red seas to greet the darkened sky.
Eyes of primal mystery, songs of the black forest
redvisions of night reflected in searching eyes.
A harmonious melody, red repossesses
the land of my aching soul.
Be still now swirling colors of misty confusion
Red brings rest in her arms….

Also published in Wingposse, October 2012 

08162012

 

Harmony of Red

“I hear the question upon your lips: What is it to be a colour? 
Colour is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness…
I’m so fortunate to be red! I’m fiery. I’m strong. I know men take notice of me and that I cannot be resisted.” – Orhan Pamuk,
My Name is Red

 

Mceklips
I hear the harmony of red, the sound coloring
the morning and evening blanket of night.
Tactile hallucinations of reality, melody of tints
bringing peace to spinning clouds.
Expressions of earths fiery embers, born in my soul,
songs of red seas to greet the darkened sky.
Eyes of primal mystery, songs of the black forest
redvisions of night reflected in searching eyes.
A harmonious melody, red repossesses
the land of my aching soul.
Be still now swirling colors of misty confusion
Red brings rest in her arms….

Also published in Wingposse, October 2012 

08162012

 

Beautiful Silence – Words never heard, but plainly understood

“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.”
Elbert Hubbard
 

bpl

Evening unexpected, a happening unforeseen

Things all new, before not a thought
Following the wild road
Only going where I don’t plan

Beautiful silence, the wind not whispering a thing
as it plays with your hair.
Beautiful silence, the moon quietly casting shadows
of our hands dancing together
Beautiful silence, the clouds a captive audience
to our tryst by the sea.

Seeing miracles as I let go
Holding you close a myth is born
The night still young with untapped energy
Laughter unfolds, unprovoked and easy

Beautiful silence, the wind not whispering a thing
as it plays with your hair.
Beautiful silence, the moon quietly casting shadows
of our hands dancing together
Beautiful silence, the clouds a captive audience
to our tryst by the sea.

Reality blurs into a dream
Thoughts quiet now except for the pursuit
Good things do happen, I take the chance
I wake with a smile, oh what a night.

Also published in Broowaha
01082012 

Pleasant Company – Nature’s brotherhood

“Our task must be to free ourselves… by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and it’s beauty.” Albert Einstein

DMW Sager

Start off easy, morning sun, waves in the distance, crashing their applause. Wind tickles the leaves creating an uproar of green and brown laughter. The wind again, running through the boughs, skipping with childish delight from one branch to the next. Spotlights, sun breaking through the tropical canopy, like lights on a dance floor. The trees give up a few tired friends, they fall to the ground, a crackle, snap, and a crunch, their dieing cry. Some stubborn appendages hang on for dear life, rigor mortise has their woody fingers clinging to rebellion against nature’s whips. Through the clearing, a dark blue sea, a stark contrast to the subtle deep green and yellow new growth. Not to be forgotten even miles away from its brother forest, waves cheer back, their voice carried by the mediating wind. Peace my younger brothers, sing with exuberance at the arrival your visitor.

My Small Things – Protect your dreams

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” 

 

My small things I protect from harm
If I lost them, I’d lose my charm.
I have all I’m going to be,
All contained within their deep sea.
Their not fragile, a well known fact.
If you shake them, they’ll fight back.
Strange they have a life of their own.
When I give them my faith, my power on loan.
The return for me is great,
A small price to accommodate.
They are small but it seems
Everyone cherishes their dreams.
02202011