Words VII

I would close my eyes
And say
The roil of my soul
The unchained froth of my mind
That is a dark angel
Hidden in the valley
Of my mind
Of my mind’s fantasy

But my words are mute
They are left without what should be
They are so lonesome
For they have not connected
They have been unspoken for so long that they are

Hungry forever
Will you say them for me please
Oh.. maybe
You can hear my un-pronounced words
For they are..
Trying to be heard

When I cry I feel so foolish
Like the child scared of the dark
Of his own home
But the rawness of my fear is there
Like the silent sounds of my head

I wish you could
… but we live in a pale
Shade of life
Almost alive

I wish that I would say this to all who would hear
In fact, I wish I could hold everyone and make them
Hear
What it is that I have…
Unspoken in my heart

Maybe that is what the earth to wishes us to understand
The long forgotten days of lore,
When man heard the word

When the trees sway
And the elements rage
Is this the way?
Beyond the words of our savage world
Beyond the love of millions
We have remained unhearing

And today we are a mute generation
That speaks unceasingly
In bed and on our
Powered toys

Oh… would that you hear me..
Father
Mother
Please
I am only crying
For the lost world of tomorrow
I am only so damn sad
For what was never mine
What is not theirs

You may not understand what it is that I am saying
Cause my words are
Meanderings
Not so clear

I wish I could measure their distance from what I mean
And maybe find a path
That will lead me on
Have we all looked for that obvious way?
To follow
Have we all thought the words that we could never break out?

Paris September 2005

Paula

Forgotten are the days when
We kept our childish secrets
On the forest floor
The trail of cast aside
Clothes..
Remember?

When she waits
No, no she doesn’t mean that those were skins
But the kohl our lives
.. traced as if an..
Afterthought

I wonder what is going on
In your head.. in another time

In the background the stream gurgles
The trees a canopied
As we made our fantasy..
Remember?

I smile my bitter sweet thoughts
For then we were princess and cowboy
Chaps but naught much else…

The glass was broken and scattered then..
Life has a way
To play..
Isn’t it Paula ?

Paris September 2005 for Paula Manuel

Forgotten

Forgotten
were the days when my eyes were induced
to complex visions and
i wish that my eyes were not so prone
to show what i am seeing
maybe i speak what was not really worn
what was not really spoken

i smile ever so slowly
as the sun closes it eyes
and hawks run from the moon
can you understand what i try and not say ?

The liquid slides slowly down
and the warmth of the day's glow is past
that is when i was waiting for the birth
of my hopes
the words of my bequethed
maybe i should pretend
to be
what it is that everyone is
or was
wherever i stand i am not what should be
i wish my eyes were not so prone
to show my thoughts

the marker has drawn the line
i kissed that word
cause i want to believe that truth is real
that the fey is flying high
and the hawk will always be circling
and that the warmth of her womb will hold me always

simple really what i tried and paint
but mayhaps beyond my skill
i would that i could spend a 1000 days
practicing and honing
I would that my eyes were not so prone
to see my hopes clear
like reality that has been forgotten

Write

I would wish to write

About all that is and was

Tell my stories like a flowing stream

And let those flows heal my scars

I would that I had that talent

And could but let go

Of all that has welled up inside

Just to know that I can say

What is deep in my soul

So that others can look at me

And see

Who I really be

That would mean everything to me

That would make me feel

So complete

I wish I could weave the words

Till I could catch your heart in

My softness

And wrap it slowly, softly

Inside my bosom

I wish I was a poet who could

Sample the words

With art and guile

Waving them wantonly around

Until we could be found

I would write the pain and love

Of a thousand generations

And tell such a story

That the people would

Become raptured

And fall into the wordscape

That I have woven

Alas I would like only

That you fall into my words

Into my love

And that my weaving would be

Naught else but the cover

Of our love

the sun in my eyes

I would like to say

Just where in my heart you lay

But I seem to have lost

Those elegant words

As if I have paid some terrible cost

I would like to say the words that would make you tremble

And curl against me till the end, as a one assemble

how slowly some alchemy was worked

how fearfully we confessed

to drink ourselves together

when we walked that castle

and had to be so quiet that time

and I smile, and I sigh

it is the last call

for love’s alcohol

What can I say ?

When I close my eyes and see

how you touched me the first time

looking back in the fast train

and hid in the sand

found love in the glade

door opening and me falling

but alas

my poems

my prose

soft like a sea borne breeze

I have dried

all the mind’s ink,

as if gone from my insides

washed away with our heart tides

my muse has gone..

So what is left me darling ?

To say some beautiful things

Weave a spell of my mind to you

To tell you where you live

Inside of me

Maybe I should better just cease

Because the most beautiful words

Are maybe the ones that we left unsaid

The way that the wind blows

carelessly your hair is the most wonderful

or the way we made the painting so

as we lay unleashed in the steam

can I ever make words that will paint those things

can I ever craft them painlessly

so that we can remember ?

I think not

I will not

And so my love

When I should say goodbye, I say love

And when I should walk away, I stay

My goodbyes are not tomorrow

They are for words un spoken that we would never bear to say

They are for warm reunions

That by the waste side have

Been fed

What we were, will be

What was, can be this way

Follow me

Or be free

The Drawing

I will draw her beauty

And what is inside too

When I touch the paper I close my eyes

And think of my fingers

Slowly touching her

I grasp my pencil

As if to caress it..

And drift it across the surface

I want to see her in that perfect

Moment.. when

The steam

Rising around her

Laying draped on the tiles

Like some oriental, languorous woman

As if I have stolen into the harem

I want to describe for all the world to see

For her to see, or perhaps be

For me

The look in her eyes..

But how to transcribe what lays behind ?

Those unanswered questions

That we sought only to glean

Trepidations that have blossomed

With her passion..

Can we really ever stay there ?

Or do we just have to remember ?

The slow soft touch

Half opened

…looks

Or the wet urgency of our hopelessness

I wish the masters could see

And then create there final

Work

My fantasy

The lover holding her..

In his ever leaving arms..

Like the sunset

We can never describe,

Or the words that we have inside our head

That fear the paper..

And then.. I open my eyes..

How can I draw these things ?

As I look to the virgin picture

Like an afterglow in my eyes.. the image

Slowly fades…

And I know I will have to find inside

Of my heart.. in the soul of my ancestors

the strength

To try.. and caress this page

The leaves

The leaves today fall

I thought we still had days before

Winter would be here

I wished to make those summer days

Last just a little while longer

I see them scattered across my path

And though I can never do the math

I am sure they wished to fly to some

Far, far off place

whispering to each other, come, oh come..

And then me too.; I wander in this hall

I hoped that there were still days before

We could welcome fear

I would to walk some more on these ways

Last just a little while longer

And I scatter our leaves along the path

And they float, twirl without any wrath

I am sure they wished to fly to some

Far, far off place

whispering to each other, come, oh come..

I know that my story has been told before

And that I have no new words to express

What I have inside

What I mean to bear

In these lines

Maybe we

Are really

Just all the same

But I could not but help

As the dying leaves

Living their last

Wafted near me

To think of you, see

So let me tell you once again

Scattered along the leaves’ wild, brown path

We have felt and done loves’ simple math

so I only wish to fly to some

Far, far off place

whispering to each other, come, oh come..

Words VI

I walked amongst these hills times before

And most needs what they have long ago forsaken

Threshed from our collective hearts

And watered down from generations of lives

The trees scattered my thoughts

And the hopes of my inner self

Have grown white with the times

As if I were cracked and withered

When I look to them my sight is blurred

By the tears of softness

That caress my sun-touched skin

Drops of salt tinged water full of

Sweetness and naught of bitterness

I would but wish to hold onto

My shaded awakenings

And embraces the woman

That has stood in the shadows

Of the once and future ways

As I hold my breath, and the thinking

my brain is wasped with pain and pleasure

and I look backwards with all my lust

focused on the unseen

touches that have covered our fathers

when the world was young

today was my hope of yesterday

when I opened my thoughts that

hid inside of my smiles

foreseen as if we knew really why

and where

and when..

Oh people of my lands

Come, gather around and hear

My hopes drawn out across the landscape

Of my vision

Lie next to me a little while

And let us speak of all that could have never been

Or is all that will ever be ?

Let us parlay

For this is our day

With our hearts and fingers play

Maybe you wonder what it is really that I say

I admit that at times I am lost in the winding valley

But to better find what is inside my words

Inside my soul, that it too can wing

Across the clouds

Free

Can you now see what I try and portray

With all the half spoken words

That have been culled

As if over-pregnant with meaning ?

So lay back, child, friend, women

And close your eyes

Not just the ones that see but

Also the ones spiritual

And open your minds

Like the night bird spreading his wings

And hear for once

What the words are

That I would have you hear

What are the spoken births of my soul

Listen behind the words

And make in the ether

An image that is your own

Not mine or his or hers

No..

Create, sculpt the words

As if some living thing

And when you have done this

Pour in your love, hate and passion

The essence of you

And in that moment know

What the god of our lives

Was, and is

See that it is alive

No more my words

But your own..

So.. now close your eyes… pray

and see