Tuesday, 11 July 2017

shapes in condensation

sweet november 
glittering gold
a rain drenched 
concrete corridor
footsteps and puddles
it's a jungle
the bus conservatory
draw a map
find your way
circle another sun
wide open in outer space
the universe 
strands of
 that age old message, less is, 
do not store
any ill, 
cease to berate
a path like this
a path like this
a path like this
rain is falling
the end is shrouded in mist
the river is fading
an old dream reawakened
to walk until the path is gone
to cross borders
every border
every border that exists
the rain is falling
the rain is falling 
            pitter patter 
pitter patter 
the rain is falling

draw a map
in the condensation
find you're way
c4,     8d

Monday, 3 July 2017

in the folds

my empire of dirt
it sounded on the radio
a country boy's hurt
after a wander around
a burnt down house
somewhere out east
by the lake, the wild heath
the moody sky 
beneath it, I seek 
an atoms weight of peace
           a crease
unfolds in a field
       a swamp, a wild rabbit
             crazy horse
comes up again
                           and red cloud
       the bisons
they go quiet
the birds chirp, chirp, chirp,
the wind is so loud
 there is no peace
no peace no peace 
                                         no peace
but at least

          there's life
(somewhere in the folds)