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of the sun. One more night
changes the window view,
wiping it out of sight.
I’m not sure I’m you
anymore. Heavy rain
seems lighter than heavy wind.
You look at the window pane,
wondering who will win
the fight between night and day
if you can find a way…
…to try to start anew and maybe make some sense out of what you knew when you had your first chance to see the shooting scars on the face of the night sky. You stare at the stars somewhere out of sight. The TV set of your mind is heard inside your head, making you push the rewind button on the half-mad recorder of your memory. You try to put it on pause where you once were me, though I’m not sure I was there at all. Just play it back for me one more time. Begin with the day before the night before there was nothing on your mind except that fear swallowing you at dawn somewhere around here. Only GOD knows when this World may be gone. HE is THE ONE WHO can end It or let It go on. Pictures on window panes are painted with rainy days’ watercolors. It rains in the vanishing rays of the sun. One more night changes the window view, wiping it out of sight. I’m not sure I’m you anymore. Heavy rain seems lighter than heavy wind. You look at the window pane, wondering who will win the fight between night and day if you can find a way…
July 2007
(ALMOST THE SAME)
…Home to GOD. As the dust
settles, some tear gas
gets in your eyes. The past
is in a looking glass
of water squeezed from a rain-
coat on a washing line.
The sky seems to remain
almost the same, looking like
an upside-down sea
or an enormous wall
on which you often see
the sun set. Shadows fall,
followed by one more night
wearing mourning-black
until the morning light.
Everything must come back…
…Home to GOD. As the dust settles, some tear gas gets in your eyes. The past is in a looking glass of water squeezed from a raincoat on a washing line. The sky seems to remain almost the same, looking like an upside-down sea or an enormous wall on which you often see the sun set. Shadows fall, followed by one more night wearing mourning-black until the morning light. Everything must come back…
August 2007
(WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY)
…to any looking glass
with a couple of eyes
scanning a tear gas
chamber. There someone cries
about a place in time
only GOD can return
one to in their prime
if they can truly earn
it. You hide in a rain-
coat on a cold, black night,
catching another train
of thoughts you want to write
down on a paper sheet.
It can feel like a leaf
from a tree on a street
you can barely leave
by just walking away
from what you want to say…
…to any looking glass with a couple of eyes scanning a tear gas chamber. There someone cries about a place in time only GOD can return one to in their prime if they can truly earn it. You hide in a raincoat on a cold, black night, catching another train of thoughts you want to write down on a paper sheet. It can feel like a leaf from a tree on a street you can barely leave by just walking away from what you want to say…
September 2007
(THROUGH THE MORNING MIST)
…what looks like another lot
of waves licking the coast-
line when a weird thought
goes through your mind like a ghost
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