Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The Answer My Friend..

The whispering wind is full of sounds
of storm cloud laden darkened skies.
Of Gods of old, and thunderbolts,
and softly spoken slithering sighs.

The flavoured wind is full of smells
of earth and smoke and splendid blooms.
Of salt and spice, and paradise,
and foul, pervasive, putrid fumes.

The blinding wind is full of sights
that one must close their eyes to see.
Torn up trees and bumblebees
and strong men forced to take the knee.

The gentle wind, its sweet caress,
it stirs up more than memory.
Of a lover's breath, and certain death
and all your life will ever be.

Thursday, April 19, 2012


I dreamed of you last night.
A dream of what never was
like dreams so often are.
I'd locked myself in,
sealed airtight,
to keep you from creeping in
built walls, dug moats
safe in my castle, I thought.

I dreamed of you last night
for walls cant hold back dreams.
And keeping you out was harder than
I ever thought it could be
So I breathed you in,
choking on the fumes
sickeningly sweet, putrid.
but growing fainter with every halting breath
and fading away with every passing day.

Until it was clear,
like every cloud of smoke
and bad taste in my mouth
this too shall pass