Saturday, February 16, 2013

Because it rained here tonight ( For you)

Like those farmers
In a warm country
I have always
Depended on the
Kindness of the rain
No, not in the
Mere poetic harvest
Of a sacred nostalgia
No, not in the
Symbolic cleansing
Of bitterness and hatred
Of dirt
Of every god-forsaken thing
Wise men talk about.

Nothing of that sort, you know.

That pristine sight
From my balcony
The smell
Of colored wet walls
The pick pock sound
Of that
Endless repetition

Caressing my inert sensation

Has always
Good enough for me.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Perhaps Song.

‘Perhaps’ is the heart
Of Love,
They say
So love me with a ‘Perhaps’

And then Perhaps
The day might
Stick to dawn
And the earth will
Go on and on...

And then Perhaps
We shall
Forever grow..

And dance and love

In an empty