You and I are laughing and laughing and having fun… We gaze into each others consciousness and you smile and cover lips with your finger as I gesture playfully. Closer and closer we become as our surrounding melts away until only universe that matters is the one created in the three feet space between you and I. A simple small talk conversation about nothing important, with content soon to be forgotten, yet so engaging that the universe itself shall break all laws to bend and fit between us …as if it wishes to carry upon its shoulder the feathery light conversation of a Sunday afternoon
” was originally posted june of 2008.
the blues is a chair, not a design for a chair or a better chair . . . it is the first chair. It is a chair for sitting on, not for looking at. You sit on that music.
shades drawn… lights dimmed
The beast outside has been fed.
Fade deep into the Armchair…
elegant burning within my head:
The flame upon a vigil candle
in a draft-less corridor.
Feeling and daylight make
Up a waxy fuel.
night evanescences into day.
The hungry beast calls out,
Like the divine to Lazarus…
And feeds on Legion’s despair.
—poem circa 2002, while coping with rapid cycling symptoms.
“Le Text Leap Frog” is written in simple LaTeX code.
based on my earlier poem “Leap Frog”
plain text version: Continue Reading