Anna was there

I have been told
that you were there
just to behold
the constante care

of weariness.
The time gone by
in true distress
i wonder why?

A song forgone
another day
and you are gone.
Only decay

stays in my mind,
i am but dust and sand
so now i can not find
where to stand.

Anna's dream

Blue out of
the rule of gravity
there is a kingdom,
in the eye that sees no more
but glances
at everyone.

Meanwhile
this whirlpool of flesh
takes you
up to the very top of a mountain, a dream...
then you fall
out of sight,

wounded,
by the opening of a hand.


Annalee bishop

The illusion of just unknown
a man that still begets
the lonely eye that casts a shade
on the very soul she forgets.

I have seen blue in the eyes of ice
blue a heart and blue a face,
her long fingers were on my skin
like snakes on skin of lace.

I have seen Annalee in the streets
of Paris for long nights and days,
and in her eyes there was the mind
of a woman who's fierce and kind

as a cat can be patient and low
where it lays. I see her smile,
i see her while
i sleep,

and in my mind her nightmares blow.

Apocalypse

Ages which progress
the streets filled in recess
the scab on the mouth
when the man can not lie
not to know who he really is
in the jest of a joke
the arching of a bow
the evidence of the dead
when death comes dressed in a cloak
and closes in on us like a night
lit with stars which behold
the sinking in mad rage of this world
the slowly dying of an orb.




As No Passion Is Left Here

Agitation of a mind
a wheel going around
the shadow of a foot
and owls as they hoot.

Carry on with a mask
and pretend not to feel
the heaviness of the task
the upcoming of the reel.

Your face erased in my mind
just stays there and i know
what should be light and kind
the arching of a bow

as dying men should go.

Beheaded

Clouds of light lay on a stream
to live for a lifelong dream
to give what should be given
of tears recently fallen.

Take the hand i try to give
throw a cut off head in air
sit for hours in a chair
while the fire that you sieve

through the machine of your brain
by scorching leaves
purple blood a liquid chain
dying among the leaves.

This head cut off from your body
by the closing of a window
behind curtains hide a body
that you should know.



By my window

It's death in life
to be awake
and to remind
the certainty of heart and mind.

To stay awake
eyes to the sky
what fails and breaks
to go by shy.

At my window
there's somebody
it's the shadow
of my body

straight out rigid
down in the street
like stone solid
from head to feet.

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