Sunday, December 21, 2008

Raindrops on Sandcastles


Behind the Gare Saint Lazare ~ Henri Cartier-Bresson

Hanging on to the hem of your spirit thin
Like those lost fish in the wake of the leviathan
Are all the hopes and dreams of a lifetime lived

You on your rocking horse heading for the precipice
Me in the mirror, brown eyes checking for the data
Forever trapped between subject/object strata

Like statues in the paranoid squares
Like sign-written letters in yesterday’s dream sky
We are both concrete and smoke in the blink of an eye

In the speed of a day; in the space of a face shaved hair
All the rocking of boats and the waves that they make
Can’t compensate the erosion of a year on the take

I gather these crumbs from the moments I steal
From the edges of sleep and the dreams made real
From the edge of the forest where dark defines the light

And though they serve no purpose
Other than random notes in the scale of vertebrae
They take all that I have and all that I have to say

And keep a running total for books that will never balance
And were never meant to be read this way.

4 comments:

Yodood said...

"And were never meant to be read this way."
I have yet to read your words the same way twice, whether you had a way to read them in mind or not. I consider you to be etcher-out of metaphors so essential that, like a grand unifying nuclear physics polynomial, the keywords to any subject may replace the variables and make the whole make a bit more sense. Rue not your year on the take for like the dark defining the light it embues with more profound authority what you offer us here.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Dood: once again your digestion of my words are reflected back to enlighten me - thanks again.

James Higham said...

Oh, like it. Like it very much.

Merry Christmas, relax and I'll see you soon.

rvivekshanmugam said...

Wish U a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :)