there was haar in my heart
then from a newly cloudless sky
the sun shone strong again
there was haar in my heart
then from a newly cloudless sky
the sun shone strong again
I didn’t see that coming
I thought and shook my head
but then again
I thought again
they told me love was blind
I feel vincible this morning
waves crash
my heart and breath come quicker
then I remember
or am reminded
that I am a tiger
a star in the night
whose light never dies
then I remember
that I am a tiger
clear blue skies take over
in puddles of late summer rain
reflected glory shows the future
I stare and try to see connections
you said you would come home
City Imagined (1)
City are many
Face music sensation
Clarity fracture
Touch colour taste
City are city
people are river
Your eyes are a mirror
In the night shining
City Imagined (2)
Every day in the city a beginning an ending a need to remember. Don’t wait for a story, all the heroes are you. Close quiet your eyes and the future steps forward. Awake alive alert, smokestreams spark-shedding curve colour around you. The eye of the storm is your own cool still centre. The eye of the storm is still you.
City Imagined (3)
The elevator doors slide together. I hold out my hand. Decision. A beat. I pull my hand away, a beat too late. My silhouette stains the dull gold, split neatly down the center. The elevator call light is dark. He is gone and the beat was my decision. Perhaps tomorrow, in a day or a year. Perhaps the beat has shaped ever after.
I wrote these for my friend U when she went to New York City
Your words burned.
“We need to talk” scorched,
“It’s not you” set my blood to seethe
and
all those words about finding yourself
were fiery nails through my heart.
One day I hope
a “maybe”, “perhaps another try”
will extinguish flames and salve again the steaming wounds.
The elevator doors slide together. I hold out my hand. Decision. A beat. I pull my hand away, a beat too late. My silhouette stains the dull gold, split neatly down the center. The elevator call light is dark. He is gone and the beat was my decision. Perhaps tomorrow, in a day or a year. Perhaps the beat has shaped ever after.
Every day in the city a beginning an ending a need to remember. Don’t wait for a story, all the heroes are you. Close quiet your eyes and the future steps forward. Awake alive alert, smokestreams spark-shedding curve colour around you. The eye of the storm is your own cool still centre. The eye of the storm is still you.
City are many
Face music sensation
Clarity fracture
Touch colour taste
City are city
People are river
Your eyes are a mirror
In the night shining