6 Apr 2011

The Forever Cycle


A gypsy band of travelling monks, honking through the alleys; Grazing with their lazy eyes upon the fading light and swarming moths; the primal pain of desperate words fading on the travel track…fading at the pace at which we speak.

Another sneak into the preview of a private movie: where sheltered shellfish glaze with lazer vision into eyelids of identity;
But identities are swimming…fading.

The forever cycle trickles from the ceiling into fresh water once more; into entirely new crystal constellations; into the cushioned corner of balloon baboons and French saloons, where severs of the sliver of the moon were once a scar, and not a crescent; bleeding light in wedges so bright that shimmer at the bottom of this pint…

Before they fade into the groove and cove of our treasure, where hooting haunted owls measure the vastness of our madness; where ancient cloaks of sadness slide and flood in fountains of silk; fading back into the sink. Where the perfect place for every piece of chess is frozen on the cosmic board; chosen only for this moment.

Where sunken seabed eyelids reach and grasp the surface of the golden furnace of this game; how it will always be the same; again and again and again. And lotus leaves do part the trees to look beyond our gain, and the eyes of beauty see in every drop of rain the atoms of the earth reform and frame into Egyptian women carrying pitchers that contain the water of the world; under palaces of Esher ceilings to demand a name, on a chequered circle to explain for the king to check if he’s insane; because we’re at square one again and again and again…fade-out.

Our fading gaze; the pearl of our pupil; our opened eye that dared to die into its own death kingdom; where lily ponds on midnight lawns are stretched across the running water of our ancient mother Time;
As a castle given to the sky;
As a dream that dared to fly;
As a sleeping boy;
An empty mansion;
A circular flow;
A drainpipe glow;
A particular angle;
A fallen angel;
A breathing nostril;
A heaving fossil;
Of the forever untold;
How our souls were sold;
Of a voice to fill the silence;
And a void to hug this violence;
Of the severed and forlorn;
And the forever unborn;
As returning in their turn style;
And once again…fade into forever’s smile.
Fade out.

Inside the Outside


Crawling back into the dawn; with atoms disintegrating into the sun. As particles of fairy dust flung into the golden orange dying colours, melting endlessly into the lake; our outer shell, the monopoly mistake, breaking away and crumbling to clay, our heart of darkness in the light of day.

Under the cherry blossom trees, where seas of sand and leaves do rush and flow and whisper to the trees of an eternal poem in the eye of every bud. As lightning strikes the crimson kite, and ancient whispers underground have heard the sounds of whooshing waves that gave the parchments of our grave to the diamond of this moment.

Where we retraced the ancient symbols, and placed the pen upon these sliding slivers of sand; sifting through the ever forgotten, to the never-ending remembrance of the forever unwritten.

Where we sought the unspeakable sermon voiced in silence, migrating its masters to the domes and planes beyond their names; and a crash of silent thunder echoed in the vault.

Where a message from beyond the bond of our names, of the sea from which we came, was swallowed in the scented secrets of a sunset daze.

Where a voice to shape this thunder crashing on the shore, emanated from our core an eternal endless ever-repeating story; and the skin of our gory foot had really shed its boot.

Where in the eyeless centre of this broken foot the fossils of a timeless space are safe inside the sun; safe beside the bracken and the diplodocus leaves.

Where the king and sting of nettles is the centre of this circle; the ancient eye; the greater ocean.

Where eight great soldiers had been waiting for disintegrating, and reinventing the tension of their tender tendons.

And So:
With the extinction of the sun,
Another web is spun.
And with the birth of a new moon,
They’ve really bent the spoon.

To be at rest forever,
As a golden eye upon a lake;
At rest in the forever sunset