Adieu Adagio

Adieu my friend, adieu my heart

You are far away dreaming,

As the sun sets in the withering distance

And I find myself alone

With the wide world of enduring beauty before me

With the stars by my side

And the evening wind on my cheeks

I once loved you and you loved me back

We danced and smiled and cried

Dreamed in a land faraway

Of make-belief plains and grand plans

A serene adagio in the rain

My tears are the only raindrops that dance on this plateau now

Inspired by David Lynch’s “The Elephant Man” A tale of John Merrick

 

1014429_10151699580639450_350365606_n

Advertisements

I Want to Fly Again

I want to fly again

Into the wispy winds of time

Beyond the valleys and the seas

Over sandy beaches

And laughing children

Over hands held in love

And friends embracing

I want to fly again

Into dream-carved sunsets

Beyond dancing shadows

Over smokey fires

And smiling octogenerians

Over lovers locked in dance

And flowers in bloom

I want to fly again

I want to fly again

Image

A View From The Clouds

I’m on the pink pedestal above the clouds

Where the air is rare and crisp

The world below me is a world asleep

Awash in a myriad of colours from the stars above

The day is not dead and the night is not alive

She does not stir, a beautiful behemoth at peace

And here I stand with the sky on my shoulders

Held aloft by the winds of my ancestors

My face is torn and tense and my mind is in a warp

My soles are blistered and my dignity charred

But I am alive, alive alive

And I can scream into the setting sun and the jeer the dying day

I can laugh well into the oncoming night

And dance on the cusp of the dawn

For my tears of elation shall fall as raindrops on your soul

And my swiveling dreams will echo as whispers in eternity

The weight of the world on my outstretched arms

The billowing dawn of the night upon my cheeks

 

IMG_0936

The Witching Hour

“How irreparably changed my life has become. It’s always the last day of summer and I’ve been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I’ll grant you I’ve had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they’re making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there’s almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door.” George Jung

 

Restlessness haemorrhages heftily at my kleptomania

It’s a sinner’s cud I chew, ruminating as I am, on insomnia

The world outside me sleeps, draped in a white winter blackness

The world beneath me lies placid, morbid in its sullen sadness

Twists of fate and drops of hate glisten in the silvery moonlight

The shadows mock my wide eyed glare, hiding sense from sight

A cry shatters the silence, a shriek only my ears can hear

A vessel runs aground; causality’s casual cadence in crescendo somewhere near

And so I stare, goon eyed and glaring, playing tag with the daring

Into a mist that engulfs my sanity, stabbing at my plexus with its swirl

Gnashing at my nerves, pampering my discord, twisting with its every curl

The witching hour is upon me now, and I’m held captive to its antagonism

Irate and innate she hammers vociferously away, deaf to dissent, deaf to cynicism

And so to fate I commit my plight, to the hope of a time when all is all right

Tis but hope so faint, so quaint, so lame, so cold on this vicious night.

lying

The Fields Of Eden

I’m looking towards the fields of Eden- to the vast Savannah plains that I grew up on, in whose whispers lie my dreams, my soul, my very being. My Savannah plains across which I rode my horse into the cool wind, and the rising dawn. Far from humanity and the struggles of the jealous, the selfish, the decadent, far from the maddening crowds.

This is to going home again, to the place where we came from. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

I looked towards the fields of Eden

Towards the furrows of hope neatly plowed

To youth, meticulously sown into the thirsty soil

youth, born barren, innocent, coy like the day

tamed to love, tamed to the content of the self

Free of grass, free of the bottle,

liberated from junk food and materialism

sheltered from selfishness and envy and pride

And all manner of primordial vices and vexations

I looked towards the fields of Eden

To a dawn of peace, a rising amber

A higher consciousness

My idyllic wanderings, my unconquerable naivety

 

We shall dream and dance

For I have dreamed, and danced, laughed, cried, laughed some more and dreamed again. Another day, another revolving frame.

I’ve watched the best fall from their crest, watched the moon rise from the fickle flames of the departing day.

I have seen the sharpest minds of my generation crumble and crash; melt away like sand pillars in the Sahara

I’ve seen fingers pointed, stones hurled, dictators ousted, oligarchs substituted.

I have hurt my mother the earth, harmed myself by spectating from the amphitheater of society. I have laughed and dreamed and danced on this spectacular stage turned molten by the state of crisis

watched the greedy get hungrier, seen the hungry starve and the opulent flourish.

Now, all that’s left are words and stanzas, paper frames, paper planes and the falling confetti shreds of dreams already danced, already departed.

I have been in Eden, partaken in its abundance

watched rogue elements wreak havoc on good people and come to the indefinite conclusion that there must be a reason why we are all still here.

For we shall dream, laugh, dance and cry another day, another departing hour.

 

 

The Departed

A poem for lost friends. Although gone, your light will forever shine amongst us.

Chariots of passion call to you from the heavens,
To you, dim and dead in your coffin, clean and shaven
Under a summer breeze, bathed in a warm savannah sun you sleep
In a mahogany coffin so deep
Into the fiery sky you soar, free as the stars that clutter the sky

Way beyond the whispers of the wind, o so very high

A tale of tales you leave behind,

A written imprint that drenches the stained eyes of your kind

Under a veil of blackness, a beautiful maidens eyes glisten
And within her, the ears of one unborn listen
Curiously and unwittingly to the sound of inevitability, to the blunt chants of death
Yet to her, awaits a plenteousness of opportunity, to her whose name shall be Beth Under crimson ambience into a white light you commit
And upon heaven’s golden gates you shall knock

Image

The Unconquerable Vice of Life: For Everything I have dreamed of and all I have lost

The sky is but a sagging tarpaulin of jaded grey

Hung decadently from the hooks of faded stars

My eyes sag and itch, red with the pain of failure

And the numbing shock of disappointment

I have loved and lost, loved and lost another day

Another soul, another unconquerable surmount

I shall hope again another day, another dawn

When the flakes of this malaise are far from my mind

And the heat of the summer sun scorches my skin

I shall love again another, day, another dawn

the unconquerable vice of life

 

 

IMG_0957

 

 

 

 

She’s A Rainbow

From the fumbled state of this festive twist, comes the dawn, bright, breezy and bold, a wandering nomad in the mist
The air is thick with ash and fog from the bygone night,

a lingering pattern of wispy plumes and dreamy shades
She’s in a void, past the trapdoors of perception, beneath the ether, she is the ether, the pale, rain-wrecked grey of the day before
She’s knotted into the neatly woven fabric of the night, beneath the flowing seams of the subconscious afore

Her eyes hold the stars of the fading night, the dreams of her forefathers and their kin before them
She is the rain and the drop, the bass, the alto, the nervous, the stable , the yang, the ying, the paint strokes, the fluttering shudder that shaded them
She’s the pale, the pitch, the string, the stitch. She’s my whole world and i’m but a flicker in the dancing shadows of her moonlit life.

 

Pachamama Te Veo Tan Triste / The Gift of Life

For my beautiful earth :

I could hug this sullen silence

Dazzling and morose like the early morning’s sunrise

I’m full of peace, blushing like the red savannah earth in the soft sunrise

I could embrace this tranquil silence

Distant and faded like the dusty twilight yonder

I’m inundated by feeling, flushing like rose petals in the scorching noon

I could kiss this beautiful silence

Divine and stately like the starry nocturnal skyline

I’m overwhelmed with love, burning like cedar embers in the black night.

IDIDIT Pass- Present- Future

Image

 

AmK.