strangers
& dreams
strange dreams
dreamers strange
camden sunset
squatting by the canal side
reliving youth, them lost days
so many souls,
in the end, we always part ways
there with georgian kindreds
i remember
there in the tropics
i remember
there in the midst of our conversation
about the valleys of Northern Pakistan
i remember
the gullys
i remember
the beggars, the elders, the saints
the writings on the wall, now so faint
i remember
the pain, the loss, the regret, the elation
the frustration
the laughter the tears
the tears, the tears,
the years, the years the years
eastern sunsets, western sunrises
the smog, the minarets, the mountains
i remember i remember i remember
new beginnings and tragic endings
i fucking remember
and each memory hurts
and so I try to forget
stay occupied
to not let
myself settle in them.
i learn to give hours freely,
to elongate
tour guide life
to witter away time
to go the long way around
to give hours freely
to avoid being alone
with these memories
that hurt.
and another
and another
aimless wander
under the sun
under the moon
kings, temple, brixton
where i end, i find another
two's company,
a canteen friend
she came by the secret garden
with her friend, an irish man
we went by the hamsters grave
we went by her flat,
searched maps and traced crystals
traded stories, briefly
i forget
everything is changing again
and I had a dream
after a long time
I had a dream
and when I later went for a swim
my dream resurfaced
and i remembered
everything again.
the zoo. the chiraya ghar. eight years.
and my heart hurts so much sometimes
when I think about things
when I think about the past, and souls
once close to mine
to leave and to be left behind
and sure life is so beautiful
so beautiful
incomprehensibly beautiful
fucked up
beautiful (light comes out of darkness, it emanates from it)
what else is there to do
but to keep moving
everything is changing again
i wish i could tell you about it
god, how i wish i could tell you about it
the sea is beckoning once more
