SO MAKE THE MOST OF THIS


101

We were tired, we were very merry
We had gone back and forth
About the reason to stay alive
But we looked into the fire
And we saw each other
And the sky went warm

And our lips grew cold
The sun dripped emerald
On our morning lighted cheeks
And our hearts, were the places
Where people came and went

Like gold in the trader’s hands
We were tired, we were very merry
We loved the beggars that we fed
We had gone back and forth
About the sincerity of our altruism

We cared for what we had to say
In our silence that blew neighbours in
And we looked into the afternoon square
And we saw each other there
And the sky went wet

And our mouths opened for the rain
We were like children, dancing
Our hearts were what they were before
We closed the windows but could
Still hear the birds, from scattered

Crumbs upon the sill, the hours raced
We were tired, we were very merry
The loveliest lies of our lives
Were in the end, what we cherished most.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Pandora-s-box-466251807

With Ourselves We Have Outdated Etiquette


10

I should not dare to be sad
So many the years gone by
The weight we bear is impossible
If we think we bear the most

But the truth is, it’s not us who have difficult lives
We are all dying every day
I should not dare to be so gloomy
While I encourage my friends

On different terms, we are who we are
Disappearing to ourselves
Unknowable, without friends and partners
I should not dare to be alone

With my insignificant Immortality
To withdraw is a worthless thing
Secure in our simplicity, we maintain control
I should not dare to be so unobtainable

That I never select others into my life
I must befriend the world, to begin to live.

To Death Are We All Bestirred


11

All souls of those I loved
Remain translated inside of me
Like a body of literature compact
A bright array of time’s swinging singularities

So many harps hung upon the balconies
All these guitars twanging for
Cheer divine, our star like courses
Comprehend the racing years

In wordless ascension towards our
Own kinds of bliss, mortal hearings
We are garlands of quatrains
Stanzas of the unyielding Almighty’s word

How we endure like spoken flutes
Of alien thresholds, invisible feelings
I am not sure, all spirits of those I treasured
Remain like jewelled ornaments

On the lips of children not my own
They will not take the earth by force
But by the bodies of their subtlety.