Boredom

Watched a kite and then a bird
Just like my mind they flew changing directions
Ever so often. I wish I knew that there was just one road
To take me to where you are, if only the sign posts were clearer
And the milestones were not of numbers but "hot", "luke warm and "cold".
Are the songs on the radio all clues?
Is dusk a time when everyone comes back home?
Will the phone begin to ring if I stare at it hard enough?
Would the books read themselves to me?

Boredom...

Last night I spent
with you in my head as i tossed and turned
between a variation of chords - D, G and A minor
and incessant conversation analysing your life
fucked up as it is...

Then when the ringing began, strenuos and agitated
I walked out of this green room we'd locked ourselves in
to see silhoutted mountains at the edge
that could have been gold if our maps had been the same
and our clocks if they'd clicked in the same tongue.

Instead beyond our stares there was a blanket pregnant with golden flowers
embroidered into a grandmother's pattern of long waits,
by the window.
Old as it was - the memories faded into lights that a photographer craves.
The flowers fell as i fell from you
and I know the world is still a better place, because tonight
weren't we fireflies?

Labernums

A yellow June


The clocks in her house


strike disbelief and nostalgia


While canvases melt into one another.


The heat is a sensation of dullness and drifting through dreams.


Like in a film I see her,

Taking charge of a scene that makes little sense .

Sepia Afternoon

little box,
one of many.
pick me pick me it seems to say
with its bright yellow wrapping and green bows

little box,
took it home.
present for whoever finds it
left it under the christmas tree - fake and gaudy

little box,
nobody found you.
changed color dust and grime
now who will want you ugly box

little box,
put it away.
under the shelf where it fits
unobtrusive spent life, under surveillance and duties

always introduced last, if someone notices
under- medication- schizo box.

What is it you said?

How do I show you
the shade of blue in the fields
when the giant-wheel makes its
death sounds will you listen?

My mind's made up, or half -made
egg that it is.
I'll be out here amidst the yellow birds
but will you call me when its not urgent?

To think that this is the beginning
and everyones happy because
they have new things this evening
will you laugh even when you've heard these lines before?

REM

I see today with a newsprint fray
My night is colored headache grey
Don't wake me with so much.
Daysleeper.

I woke up with a letter. and an accusation. I woke up with the doorbell serving lunch, guilt and ache...the songs are all mixed up. they make sense that way. honeybee gives me a high. jazz is alright. nostalgic speeches, and i see you're yawning and wish that i would stop...so i do...and next thing i know you're fast asleep...

Sunday

Your sunday starts here...

City

I live in a city. of madness and magic. Its always crowded, they say it even has a "spirit"...but this crowd is made up of strangers. people who go about the business of living alone. they say its a city of dreams...my dreams are bizarre. i don't know about the rest. because we're all strangers. we hardly ever speak. is it possible that people on the trains are pushing and shoving each other only because they want some human contact?