And now that we must love from a distance–without touch, without digging deep in the souls of the others by locking their eyes with our own, without being mesmerized by their laughter and drinking it from a chalice, without playfully toiling with their hair with our fingers, without breathing fire into their hungry deceptive bodies–and now when we must stand in corners and long for touch, now that we have to listen to empty jazz tunes alone, and dance…from a distance, that we have to love from gory distances–now we miss Love and we will keep missing it until the grey macabre stillness takes it. And when we were driven mad by it, we looked away from it. Now we are being driven mad through it–without it. But now, we miss it and we are fools.
society
Prison-break
StandardAfter the dawn broke she looked at the sun as it was coming up and said I will have nothing to do with love.
And as the dusk turned blue into a dusty hue of pink and grey. She looked at the moon and said I will have everything to do with love.
Wisp
StandardSometimes I walk among the living dead
And I die a thousand lives
And when I come back to life
I talk to them and I laugh with them
And I love them and I fall in love with them
And when I turn back to see
I see all these faces
Of people that I do not know
And I don’t know their stories
Yet they have told me everything
And I heard
But I do not know them
They are strangers
And then there is myself
The strangest of them all
For they have seen me
And never loved me
And never fallen in love
And I am a wisp they all love
I am a stranger whom I do not know about
The Birds Grew Wings
Standard
There was no denying–that the merciless cage only,
Prevented the Birds from soaring up high
Following their rush, up in the sky-which they love.
There was no denying. There never is.
There was no shame–when the cruel master,
Had taken the wings…taken them away
There was no shame.
There was no pain, when the Birds would sing
Not in melancholy, but in vain
Not in forgetfulness but in ignorance
Of the bliss in flight.
There was no pain. There always is.
There was no wonder–that what would happen
If the Birds grew back their wings
Would there be rebellion?
Would there be flight?
Would there be a reason?
Would they remember?
There was no guilt….
The day of the storm–when the wind blew down the cage
When the drapes kept swaying
And the bizarre light kept flashing
When the Birds lay forgotten
There was an escape.
A flutter, a hop, a swing and a flitter
And a swoosh….
The Birds Grew Wings
There was no ego..in their flight.
There was no pride.
There was no remorse. There always is.
* * *
The Birds soon discovered–their wings,
Had always been with them.
They had just been forgetful,
Of wings and flight and the sky
They blamed it on the Man.
There was so much anger. There always is.
* * *
The Birds flew in a sequence.
The People of the Strange Town
StandardYou the people, of the strange town,
who bring strange tidings!
You the people, of the unknown time.
You, the people who are not connected
You, the people of the strange town.
You, the people, in flames.
You, the people.
I do not belong.
Neither do you.
I do not surpass.
Neither do you.
I do not transcend
Neither do you.
I do not fly.
Neither do you.
I do not feel.
You…neither do you
I do not belong.
Yet you do.
I stand, while you spite
I stare while you jeer
I ponder while you remark.
I do not belong
While you, you bond.
I am me, and you…
Are neither me, nor you nor us, nor them
I breathe, while you curb.
I do not belong.
Neither do you.
We are not one.
You! The people of the strange town.
The one’s in denial.
I do not belong.