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"The Invitation"
(Dedicato alla mia speranza)
Look with me to the sunrise
As we hold hands
Feeling the breeze blow
And the cool stream flow
Beneath our feet.
Let us go, you and I,
Into green valleys,
Where the dragonflies swoon
By the sleeping moon,
Dreaming of the future,
Forgetting the past,
Trickling into droplets
Like falling sand in an hourglass.
Let us seek shelter
In stormy weather;
Let us laugh, let us love,
Let us think of Time -
Of the moments we have,
And the moments we've had -
Looking at each other
And wondering:
"How do you know when forever arrives?"
Look with me to the sunrise
And come with me on this journey.
Let us call on friends
And laugh until our tears flow,
Feeling the breeze blow
In Nature's warm glow,
Until we wearily venture
Into the kingdom
Of peaceful Sleep.
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"Powder"
(Dust mixed in mud)
The highest form of death
Is the one that leaves
Nothing behind
No sadness or grief
No one to miss you
No one to care
No one to notice
That you were even there
Ignored in lifetime
As ignored in death
Like an insect at night
On a turtle's back bare
Do not bury my body
But burn it to ash
And scatter me in the elements
So I vanish in a flash
Leaving no trace of self
Alas this cannot be
For there is no such freedom
In this world of conditionality
There will be those who'll mourn
There will be those who'll weep
There will be those who'll rejoice
From old grudges they keep
So accomplish I very little
So little self I leave behind
Inconvenient I to little
Out of sight
And out of mind
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"Wanderer"
(Ein Pfennig für Kaffee)
I do not have riches
Nor do I have fame
Neither want I children
A spouse in absence same
I have no house to offer
Nor one I'm willing to own
Live I only for the moment
No future in mind grown
A poor husband I will make
A dismal father all the same
Poor by judgement of society
For I refuse to play the game
I simply write verses
Compose music loud to hear
Largely ignored at present
By those I hold dear
These trifle offerings
Will soon in memories fly
Sought only by a few caring
Long after I die
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"Smoke"
(Ascent into nothingness)
A love that is tiring
Is not love at all
It's hope that is grasping
A fist white-knuckled ball
Making love is tiring
One can truly understand
Yet in making love is nothing
But fluid formed in strand
The touch of the body
The moist scent of sweat
This is not love at all
Simply carnal desires met
True love transcends thought
The self is transcended too
In emptiness there is fullness
A profound insight shared by few
It needn't be expressed
Lush words you do not need
It's highest form in secret
For the wise this was creed
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"Sunyata"
(In the circle you see no-thing)
To truly love someone
Don't create them in your mind
For illusions can be deadly
Here reason goes blind
Ideas are fleeting
Like bubbles in the breeze
Seeming solid upon seeing
A mist filled with disease
Love not what is shadow
Such fantasies could kill
Destroying souls to the marrow
Rushing to dark graves to fill
So love only what is actual
Love only what you see
For what is is always is
If your mind remains free
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"Abstieg"
(Allegory to a Lost Muse)
From the summit
Of a great mountain
You fell
My love
Your broken body
Strewn
On the jagged rocks below
Your anchors failed you
Your grip betrayed
By a rope
That seemed stable
The wind howling
In your ear
Like ten-thousand banshees
As you plummet
Your lifeless hands
I touched
Your eyes open
Devoid of light
Let me gently close them
So in death you take flight
These images
Now just a memory
Like a lullaby
In a pre-sunrise dream
You were my reverie
My reality
My idea
My fantasy
You visit sometimes
As a vision in passing
Or a wanderer in sleep
There we make love
On pages of music
While in silence
I weep
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"Knock-knock"
(The myopic staring at the sun)
The metaphor of the vampire
Is such a curious thing
That they can only drain you
If invited in
Undead they needn't be
For in reality
There are those in the living
That drain all the same
Sucking the marrow out of life
A living corpse left rotting
Like a discarded prune
The overwhelming query:
"Who invited them?"
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"Footprints"
(Inspired by one & fashioned by many)
A bird with wings
Broken enough times
Will one day decide
Never to fly again
Even in trying
The distances are shorter
Labour and hesitation
Always a hindrance
The fear of falling
Always present
It can only look
To the horizon
From the summit
Of a great mountain
Or taste sea air
From atop sand dunes
Bordering silently
Along vast shorelines
Watching only
From a distance
Those who can soar
Footprints in the sand
Mark its travels
Seeking to remember
To feel
To glimpse
Its union with the sky
Slowly being eroded
By a gentle breeze
While the grass sway
Embraced with warmth
Under the afternoon sun
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