Pensieve

I dreamt of you

one autumn night

the stars etched as on stone

never blinking but

an eye

And paradise startled

me,

with its soft feet

sinking, through the grass,

in despair

Wander,

wander through

dusty roads,

The steep sun unkind

never near, ever—

Maybe you’ll find me

thinking

On a rock,

pensive and strong.

I know no other

except you

In the streams of beauty that surround me

When I breathe,

and the clock striking new time—

A minute passed,

I thought of you

Now,

what next?

Strongly discordant

the nemesis arrives

incoherent, unknown—

Must I think of you

as a paean of beauty

since I carve you in

these lines?

Decipher me like an April breeze,

So non-existent, that I can weep

for a flutter of an eyelash, or a heart

Steeped in dusk

in vain,

in acres of lacquer

those grief driven eyes—transient with woe:

how shall I cast myself about you?

FREE FALL

wanton memories

plunge me into a free fall

of verse

and non sense

the world swirls by

and I stream past myself

in my many moods.

when I crash, there shall be nothing

but a paper envelope

flat out on a piece of earth.

Ecstasies dwindle

mechanically,

Risqué in their disappearance.

I tried to hold them back

but my fingers crushed and

crumbled

Left me insensible—

polarized

and thoughtful.

Blanched in joy,

parakeets purple—

and summer cleaves to the edges

so long steeped with dark.

The murmurs reach a crescendo

of dominant moods,

apparent in echoes.

I strive to secure you now,

in beauty and truth

and the jeweled lacquer of my eyes—

Let us dream in oxymorons.