the mirror untitled #37 the hollow

untitled #54

erasable vessels
spilling the
sound
of displaced
clouds
searching the lost
and found
for
 an empty voice
in a parade
of illusions
the
confusion
of recognition
in dreams
found
but never lost

the bridge

the trainstation
that was random
the bridge on the other
hand
i must admit was
not
a passenger in
a uniform of long red
hair and a cigar unlit
the wooden obstacles
untouched
afraid to be with your
own skin you
surrender to a run-away
stuffy
addicted to cosmetics
the melting light breaks
a dying song
and you imagine a
passenger in a uniform of
long red hair
and a cigar unlit on
a bridge somewhere






the mirror

you ask me where
i keep the know
you
abandoned in the ashes
the wind laid at
your feet
be poetic you say with
your usual flair but
keeping the know is not
poetic
you tremble as you try
breaking the mirror
that won't let
you see what
you have seen
you ask me where i keep
the know you
abandoned
amid taunting burgundy
stains
be poetic you say
but keeping the know is
not poetic



untitled #37

stepping barefoot through
puddles
blues strumming through
my head
houses grey and white
passing by gates of
silver and gold
it ain't done
if you still feel
the cold
i been here before
but i was raw and bitter
then
three o'clock in coloured
paper
and memories turn to ice
the scent of an embrace
quietly slipping out the
door
as lights dance in and out
from here to there and
in between passing
through gates of
yellow straw and
make believe

on pg 16 i begin to stutter



the hollow

a puppet naked
with a necklace
(the reasons don't matter)
in an unwritten book
a lone cello
sleeps on the moon's
swollen belly
(again the reasons don't matter)
ice skeletons
on frozen windows
dying a dripping death
as a fire swallows
another log
on
a wooden table
an empty peanut
butter jar with a
silver spoon inside
no sound from
the puppet just
unseeing eyes
staring blankly
into the hollow


untitled #53

the night is rehearsed
translated into naked
desire
in the mirror human
bleakness bleeds
through a lace curtain
beyond the sound of
your breathing and
the scent of
candles once
playful and solemn now
drifting towards
the stillness of nothing
is there a portal your
desire hasn't entered
the night is rehearsed
the naked regret forgotten.