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Apad 24
We have cemeteries.
We have cemeteries and graveyards
sometimes carpeting whole areas, sometimes
with statues and marble houses, sometimes
with rows of small metal markers.
Some for this religion, some for that, some
for class or paupers.
And one that stands out with its statues the
size of houses and mausoleum mansions and
wait
a police force?
Who are they protecting?
Them from us, the cognitive zombies?
or us from them.
We have cemeteries.
We have cemeteries and graveyards
sometimes carpeting whole areas, sometimes
with statues and marble houses, sometimes
with rows of small metal markers.
Some for this religion, some for that, some
for class or paupers.
And one that stands out with its statues the
size of houses and mausoleum mansions and
wait
a police force?
Who are they protecting?
Them from us, the cognitive zombies?
or us from them.
Apad 13
I remember the ferry, with its
countless Chinese school children bowing
to all the large western strangers.
Missing by doing so the pods
of dolphins sporting in the ferry's wake.
In their play perhaps making use of the
hopes I had left behind.
I remember the ferry, with its
countless Chinese school children bowing
to all the large western strangers.
Missing by doing so the pods
of dolphins sporting in the ferry's wake.
In their play perhaps making use of the
hopes I had left behind.
Apad 10
The dustbin sits next to the door.
buried in the nest of crumpled words
are the remnants of a clock.
Taken from the wall and smashed,
the hands which counted out the moments
to freedom are free themself.
the cast off moment hand casually
pointing to the exit
regardless of reality.
The dustbin sits next to the door.
buried in the nest of crumpled words
are the remnants of a clock.
Taken from the wall and smashed,
the hands which counted out the moments
to freedom are free themself.
the cast off moment hand casually
pointing to the exit
regardless of reality.
Apad 9
Sitting on worn church steps
along the crowd of Ambulance Road
His voice pitches
wild among the sirens
like some modern prophet
crazy with ecstasy.
But without a deity to claim
future or vengeance
on the line of sinners
he accosts for cigarettes or beer.
or a memory of sanity that
glitters for just a moment.
Sitting on worn church steps
along the crowd of Ambulance Road
His voice pitches
wild among the sirens
like some modern prophet
crazy with ecstasy.
But without a deity to claim
future or vengeance
on the line of sinners
he accosts for cigarettes or beer.
or a memory of sanity that
glitters for just a moment.
crickets and 9mm shots, this
was not what I planned. Crows line
the roofs and trainers from the wires.
potholes lurk to capture Smart Cars
and people walk by in small gaggles,
often silent except for their fingers
rapidly moving across the phones
and into rapid letters across the screen.
Once I flew on dirt roads the only sound
my tires on the pebbles or the chain ratcheting
Once I flew on words and hopes, this
was not what I planned at all.
was not what I planned. Crows line
the roofs and trainers from the wires.
potholes lurk to capture Smart Cars
and people walk by in small gaggles,
often silent except for their fingers
rapidly moving across the phones
and into rapid letters across the screen.
Once I flew on dirt roads the only sound
my tires on the pebbles or the chain ratcheting
Once I flew on words and hopes, this
was not what I planned at all.
apad 7
Even now I leave parts of my life unsung,
the notes in semiquaver climb along the staffs
gather around the silent parts, whispering
to each other across the spaces. They
slide up and down, around a whole note
that carries thought and hope to the night.
I think that another part of my life
may pass from silence to madrigal
to another night with thoughts of you.
Even now I leave parts of my life unsung,
the notes in semiquaver climb along the staffs
gather around the silent parts, whispering
to each other across the spaces. They
slide up and down, around a whole note
that carries thought and hope to the night.
I think that another part of my life
may pass from silence to madrigal
to another night with thoughts of you.
Apad 6
You blinded me, she said.
Your words wove a shield
that passed like a lunar poem
between my hope and the light.
Your darkness flowed, he said.
the sky of your dreams were the edge
of the sun and moon
between my love and the light.
The tulips do not tower over us with doom.
soft petals wait the eclipse's merging to life.
You blinded me, she said.
Your words wove a shield
that passed like a lunar poem
between my hope and the light.
Your darkness flowed, he said.
the sky of your dreams were the edge
of the sun and moon
between my love and the light.
The tulips do not tower over us with doom.
soft petals wait the eclipse's merging to life.
