Asylum 3

Fire broke glass today.
Who puts two matches
in a moribund candle
enclosed in cold glass?
One of absent mind does.

Scherben bringen Glück Frauenstück!

High strung intellectual

High caliber intellectual
to you what can I say?
woman that I am
who with her children
doth play
most every day
at home I must stay
I try to reach you
but you turn away
clumsy as I try
to formulate
thoughts or questions
or notions
with you to share
I'm never there
to foolishness reduced
are my spontaneous reflections
No, I can't keep up
with you
high caliber intellectual

Lesson of the river

Reull Vallis River on Mars

There is no distinction to the river between species.
It just flows.
What is memory to the river?
Will it remember that particular whirlpool under the bridge?
Oh, there is many a whirlpool!
Will it remember that particular fish?
Oh, the fish are many!
Will it remember that particular bed of rocks?
Oh, rocks are many! So many a rock!
It makes no difference to the river.
Its conclusion is the ocean, its background the ice.
Its course of action is winding movement...
so long there shall be water...
Then what is its inspiration?

For if you think of a river bed in a dry desert landscape,
like a foot print of where a river once made its bed.
What memories has it left of all the creatures in its belly,
all the life dancing around it, the feasts of rain from above?
Is it still river, that rocky roundness below?
Is it still what it once was made of?

Soul coffin

When darkness surrounds you
There is little visible light
When darkness surrounds
The Soul is in plight

The Ego would like to take flight
It screams with delight
Holds on with all its might
When darkness abounds

The vultures prey on your foolish death
So, draw another breath!
Give thanks for your daily bread
Or else be really dead

# 0134

Miss the home
I’ve known
Feelings flown
Scorn worn
Heart torn
To be born
On  my own

Love the Don

Done dawn
Perfect pawn
Path drawn
Crystal crown
Wicked frown
Get me down

Do this

Do that
Chit chat
Tit for tat
Take my hat
There you at
Have a  kiss

Nexistential Smile

Yeah,
I'm personal man,
'cause it's what I got!
I'm raw,
thanks a lot.
See my heart beating
my bare chest seething.
Feelings man,
sweeeeeet emotions.
Too close for comfort?
Indecent exhibition,
such erudition?
Doubtful perdition?
So what?
Sure I get insecure,
unsure of what to do.
My approach is in the nude.
I don't mean to be rude.
I begin from within.
And yes I trip over the debris
and get lost in reverie.
That's me.
But I find a way,
over time.
Do stay,
don't mind.
Or don't
and do.
Who cares,
do you?

Wiseacre

The fool walks alone.
Ignorant souls pursue only their own.
While the patient weep rain,
the angry wince in disdain.

Folly chokes on its cheer
and oblivion drowns in its fear.
Love believes its own lie.
Grief is deaf to its cry.

Truth breathes air of dispair.
Beasts go back to the lair.
Idiots don't see the danger
in being a stranger
as they walk in they valley of selfish affairs.

Givers lose gain.
Takers feed on what's hard to obtain.
While the ancient seek life,
the litter evinces its strife.

Reason commits treason
and mind is unkind.
Death is true to the living,
senescence unforgiving.

Freedom is vain,
eternity plain.
And Bliss
refuses to miss
that last kiss
before going insane.

N.M.P

scarlet pimpernel

Mysterious one,
you're hard to find
with your adventurous
luciferin
way to shine
You blow my mind
Never to be mine
I love your kind

those letters

I write letters
in my mind
all kind
sometimes
never to be
written down
perhaps
never to be known
or read
or spoken aloud
perhaps
in fragments
here and there
see them anywhere?
a lot have flown
away
others stay
perhaps
it's hard to say
are the letters
that I sign
really mine?

Butterfly

What I have is little.
I'm stuck in the middle.

To me it's a lot,
'cause it's all I got.

Whatta you wanna be?
I wanna be free

With what little I know,
gonna give it a go!

booked

I'm hooked on books
now, I read all the books
yes, all the books I can
that is
so much a heavy book
I read
that my arms are sore after Sunday

Pilgrim Soul

Will you be there
when I return?
When I'm ready
I'll be back
when it's my turn.
I wonder lover
will your heart
still burn
with the fire
that brought us together

The cave

The kids mostly outside they play
But she must go back into the cave,
sometimes, and stay
And take the children with her
To where the dancing shadows sway
To where the babies lay
To dream about the play by day
Til the darkness goes away

when in doubt, differentiate

Trying to hold on
wherever she could
she would
woman of nowhere
now she wanted
just to let go

The Master

I carry my notebook wherever I go,
for language won't stop its flow.
It keeps me away from sleep
and hunger and thirst,
away from company.

Even in my dreams
it writes and thrives.
And I am awake because of it.

When I let language be the master
it takes a hold of me
and I become
but a vessel for its incessant flow.

When I let language be the master,
I don't know
how to make it stop...
And why would I?

Its irresistible beauty,
the wisdom of its loving, honest touch
keep my fingers on the writing feather clutched.
I don't care about the smudges of ink
spritzing all over
as the pen bounces around
as if with a volonté of its own.

I don't want to think,
I just want to write
and let language be the master.