Sunday, September 9, 2012

a poem.

I have sat by the Buddha’s trees
And waited for the depths of night
In the engine room of reality
To come and save my soul.

Shall we go then, shall we go then
I do say
To attempt and sway
You to come along with me. 

On the streets and in the alleys
I have waited for your shadow
Been crushed by the weight of silence
with the fleeting echos turn. 

Along the seine, along the seine
i walk and wander, wine in hand
speaking of my fantasies
my artist heart to beat again. 

But you are coy--oh how you are coy! 
You tease and tempt with all your might
and i am left with none but air
and broken glass and fickle clocks. 

in the nooks and through the crannies
i hunt for you, ephemeral
but labrythine you ever taunt me
creep and crawl up through my spine. 

shall we go then, shall we go then
i do say
to attempt and sway
you to come along with me. 

i sing of love and a girl at war
on the picnic blankets of the shore
in dentist's chairs and libraries
in the musky scent of old book stacks
on the steps of the bridges 
under the rain of hallowed months
with bending, breaking umbrella backs. 

up the mountain, in the plane
over to the sea again
i flit and flicker through my days
searching for the endless ways
to stitch and sew you to my brain. 

but i am but a clockwork orange
ticking ticking ticking still
oscillating between high and low
between the segments of split personalities
do i stay or do i go? 

shall we go then, shall we go then
i do say. 

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