synchrochick007

Times move fast in futility... what do you have to show for your efforts? Periods of suffering and misused utility, learning to hear what blind eyes see-- when mine are inside, inside, I carry them inside. rivers carry sediments... sediments—they go, they go, change plays in short lived strides; waters ripple, waters flow... but mine are inside, inside, I carry them inside. you wear them pinned to your chest, displayed in selfish pride. what do you have to show for your efforts? When mine are inside, inside, I carry them inside. what, to you, are your trinkets? What power do they hold? Empty, broken useless, inside th

People come and people go Planets moving to and fro Clouds will fill, and split and purge Trees will grow Seas will surge But I am here, now I am here Brick upon brick, layering Foot before feet People come and go But you are mine to keep The rain may come tomorrow Joy may turn to sorrow But I am here, now I am here A flower’s time will come to wilt Young blood will succeed the old Upon generations foundations built Wisdom, in passing is gone and found Tales are lost then retold Always return to the ground But I am here, now I am here Though people may come and go Stories and lesson’s you’ll never know T

28th bare trunks along the forest path - gravestones in a clearing ------ 27th low tide - stones piled upon wet stones ------ 26th silent breeze - a moorhen passing through the norfolk reeds ------ 25th winter heathland - ponds reflecting pieces of sky ------ 24th break in the traffic - ducks flapping past in a line ------ 23rd Hythe canal - a duck's wake scattering the trees' reflections ------ 22nd heavy rain on the playing fields swans float ------ 21st clear night sky - a car's engine fading away ------ 20th thick fog - dew droplets catch the faint sunlight ------ 19th between fir and pine -

I will search out your shape-- your parted mouth, the red esophagus, a tongue limp with hunger like the heavy sound of a bell. I will find the dust of my skin in the ancient impressions of fingers on your body. and In the cool stone of your nails I will rest and grow to be the moss that only you can see, the downy hairs penetrating the back of your long neck are tall trees in the Sahara. We will sleep in one room and share exhalations. Your eyes will be the windows. and we will keep our secrets pressed between our bodies until they are wet and run together like slick fish-- and finally, when it is dark, we will lay to bed

were this blurred, we'd be submerged, stuck under the waves with warping colours & corals falling away from a certain blue surface, where white animals are climbing.     hot & cold climb the same ladder into the eye     and we see everything sharper: today there are sky-flags, halfway tattered. browns & sea-thinned greens, then reds & great flames are traditional but the starving stag, steaming in the cracked courtyard says blue is autumn's secret favourite, the colour of bruise & ozone & iris. a leaf can fall like a cracked mast, or a dead bird meant for the ground where the plummet loves d