MEDITATION ON A COOL BREEZE:
Did you get the message?
Did you make a connection?
Did you get in late last night?
Do you remember?
The leaving, running for rendezvous with…….somewhere else,
always on the move.
Home, two spoons, a knife & a fork in a silent way.
The white, the glass, the waiting search, waking from a bad dream
& the one next door. The same piano playing random melodies, half
remembered, almost familiar, leaving through a door at the back of
the room. Shadow light legs & thrills, thinking about a train &
the next place. Bullet & the Mountain sky, head in the clouds.
“Did you see it this time?”
“Naa, it was chuckin’ it”
Rhythm of stripes
Rhythm of walking
Rhythm of a mouth not speaking
Rhythm of spoon
Of look-around, cruising
Rhythm of voices in a crowd
Rhythm of badge
Rhythm of name
Rhythm of too much fashion
Rhythm of trying too hard
Rhythm of easy
Rhythm of surfing the wave
Rhythm of a light in the dark
Rhythm of a hand reaching out
Rhythm of street
Of feet, passing
Rhythm of everybody going somewhere, nowhere, anywhere
Rhythm of a turning page
Rhythm of hand touching face
Rhythm of alarm calls
Wake up calls
Rhythm of remembering
Rhythm of time, inevitable
Rhythm of yesterday, forgotten
Rhythm of now, kiss my eyes
Rhythm of an old smile
A new smile
Any kind of smile
Rhythm of day of living
Fingers tapping, sending messages
Rhythm of tiny acts of kindness
Did you guess remote controlled lights concealed within balloons?
This corner craves silence, the bill unpaid sleeps in a crack
in block of metal number nine. The voices of the ones that couldn’t
wait aggravate. Fragile morning. Emotional idiot.
NEW FORMS OF 36 GHOSTS:
Female ghost visiting a man.
Ghost warrior dispersing the revengeful ghosts.
Ten famous scenes from the story of the road.
One hundred views of the moon.
Rough tales of the floating world.
Pictures of fashionable dolls with eyes in the black shadows dimly.
Kirby Snow – ‘Troubles’
I’m numbered, surrounded by voices.
I’m shaking, up too lake, up too early.
I’m deluged, rapid messages received, wireless.
Hold my hand or something, anything.
Warmth of the human spirit.
Schneider TM & Kptmichigan – The Light 3000
A cheap hotel in the docks, a retired ocean Queen, Star Line,
heavy set, rich cream, floats redundant in the rain. Clouds come down
into the streets & cruise, gossamer cool. Giant octopus languish in
tiny tanks for tourists gawk & click. Restauranteurs lean back
smoking cigarettes, enticing tourists in from the deluge.
Everything smells of fish & incense. Noah awaits instructions.
Galcid – Hertz