If I looked at it too long,
Every piece is immobile.
In constant pursuit of perpetual
Arranging so many symbol
If I was old, I might be bitter
Might be old, might be better
I might spend long hours repairing clocks
But I grow old, these clocks are locks
Their fingers, gold,
Soft minutes stroking hoping metal parts
So I’ll avoid them, I’ll avoid them,
Because the feel is growing wants to be let in.
Now red is rising staining daylight times,
And wheels are flowers on his blushing field
If I looked too long,
Future perches, and every piece is puzzled,
Rusted tangles start to bloom.
I could wish to translate the unimagined
For what it not seems I said
Is Fall over,
Is Spring through
Is it true the sky was bled?
Is still bleeding? To solve our hungry bleating,
To make sure that we were fed.
But now the Sun’s horizon drowned
And in his place hot towers stand,
To bolster concrete pedestals,
Our kingdom in his palm machine.
All hail! The Emperor of Steam!
Behold and Hail the King of Steam!
Reclining in his comforts,
Tangled warm machines.
_________________________________
There was a man with large sunglasses
Wrapped around his face, his hair white,
He portly, squat, wearing
Green suspenders, green pants
Camouflaged
In a grassy treeside overgrowth
Squatting, smoking a small cigarette
Who surprised me suddenly
When I was walking in the
Pasture the other day.
He stepped forward I had not
Thought anyone else was
Around he said “Hello”
And started speaking –
“Today’s the day, my friend.” he said to me,
“The day when clouds and men and seeds and gods,
Together, in their leisure meet.”
He stopped to let a smoky whisker out,
“Today, my friend,” he said to me,
“will be the day,
when finally the ground goes free and lets go underneath,
when grazing beasts will tickle tree trunk pillars,
and they’ll tilt a nested crown to look down from above.”
“Are you Lonely?” I asked.
He paused.
And so upon the meadow as the day grew tall
We ate snipetts of my picnic cheese,
And drank water, staring at
The cows or sheep
And the trees that looked like pillars
‘Til finally the end drew near and dusk was hanging in its place,
The waning time when grazing creatures contemplate the years.
Loudly first then louder still,
We heard the music of the spheres.
The highest boughs of trees were waving
First, then branches lower down,
Until the giants fill with sound,
Then rustling swallowed up the verdant ground,
Then laughing swallowed up my friend and me.
The waves took up the mountains,
Then the sky ate up the sea.
Why, you ask, do I tell you of this distant memory?
It is because after the openness
Within the moment where the Heaven met the Ocean,
That is the first thing I thought of
After you asked if I was lonely.
___________________________________
Only so much suspended moisture,
And only so many lifting minerals,
Only so many old landscapes
Only so few temporal homes-
Space is collapsing!
Flags of possibility in the crumbling Earth,
Ripples underfoot, splashing winds-
There are so many ways to destroy
And so many cracks to breathe
In, the empty spaces growing
Overhead inside of courtyard mountains,
Hiding, gaining quiet strength.
Treading lightly still vibrates slightly underground
And with everything refracting it can be hard
To make it clear, to see it brightly
To know when they get near,
So calmly listen for their singing, be quiet,
You might hear the strings of space
Dividing into islands
Of floating moisture and upward rising
Archipelagoes of dust.
Fixate through focus fields
Into spreading final beauty-
Inky absolution finds wetness
In the water, this hard stone desert
Feels the child who feels her-
Passing on is the grandfather’s God,
Wearing out is without, about-
Dipping our naked skin upon the
Morning never felt so clean!
all by Naidrawderf and Seert
