following the footsteps
of the great idiot;
painting onto the canvas
of forgotten dreams,
with colors you can see
only with your eyes closed.
learning to perform miracles;
practising, believing,
until they are easier than breathing.
laughing the clouds
off the face of the sun,
and crying the rain down
to wash away a broken, battered heart.
wanting to be for just a day
a flower;
or maybe a drop of water in a calm pond.
killing time, waiting for something
to happen. the phone to ring, maybe.
smiling at nobody for no reason
in particular; and seeing an expersated face
across the looking glass.
living life in slow-motion-turbulence.
we are all but mannequins on a stage,
the backdrop for a great play
for a yet invisible audience
(whose sense of humour intrigues me).
you're most cordially invited.
your laughter and tears shall suffice
as the price.....
Of incomplete smiles and lazy afternoons. Of all things Bong. Of music and minor chords, Of poems and thoughts of rain.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Thoughts as i stood on the Crossroads to Nowhere
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