FEELING FOLDED GOLD ON GOLD


31
Raw with feeling of the unearthly beautiful
I watched tomorrow move towards me
A sentimentalism of verbs with a life

Of their own, making their way
Through mysteries floating across
Distances, raw with another country

Inside of me, I stood with certain open letters
Forwarding the bitter origins
Of nostalgia for ordinary streets

Those that are no more streets to walk
That feel like home, and stressing the importance
Of identity, wonderful and bright –

Raw with feeling of the bell-struck air
I felt like a Tourist on my home-planet
When did I lose you? Whose have you become?

Children I never had, wife I never met
Friends that couldn’t find their way
To the destined meeting place.

HOW STRANGE THAT BOREDOM AND ALL HER HOPES RUN DRY


30

There are no ballads, crown-nests, no Songs!
That can relate living Experience
But the dreamers attempt the impossible
The translation being their variety
Of experience, the music goes on

Dying by the movement of our
Glossy selves, impermanent transactions
The drift of what we considered
So pragmatic, so terribly necessary
Years later appears as foolishly stubborn

There will be no great feasts at the
End of this, only nature and time
And other transparent necessities
The leafless hours and departed ships
Are no more, all that we know intimately
Will become extinct, such is the exqusiite
Depth of belonging, and not belonging.