I used to believe I was eloquent
but only while the words
were inside my head, tumbling about,
grazing the skies of my inner world.
Coming out they stumbled into a strange place,
not knowing how to tread and thread;
folding into strange shapes and knots
not suitable for linearity.
Written on a surface they line up well enough
arranged in neat stacks and rows,
escaping the confining dimension of time
by flattening out all the parallel pockets of space-time.
My hands are more eloquent,
able to add the dimension of shapes and colours,
speaking in crystal shards and strange crosshatched riddles,
and pouring my strange mental vision into shimme
Postindustrial confusion
the running of train tracks
on noisy mornings
human cogwheels of an abstract machine
talking to grey floors with cheap boots
While the diffuse rumbling of listless wagons
hails a new load of morning
every five minutes
we wait
confused but not knowing
Electric melancholy
tristesse of sourceless rain and desaturated autumn
but the void between torn out pipes
and abandoned preliminary tunnels never touched by trains
are no space waiting to hear our tales.
Humming to the rain
telling it a little welcome
hmm hmm
thunder, where art though been?
I missed your booming company.
Long time no see,
dear lightning;
missed your flashing smile.
Clouds, though you hide my beloved stars,
I embrace your nightly shade,
knowing the air is still flowing,
the world still turning for tonight.
I could be so much more
Something so much bigger I could be –
Just give me the freedom of the sky, the love of the fields;
Let my hands touch the hills and my soul the rocky, cloudy mountain tops –
Just let me breathe, breathe so much more, so much higher air and so much deeper ground, just let me breathe out all the words I could not speak in the same eloquence;
Let me form my words in the palms of wooden hands, of oak trees and wise old pines, let my thoughts be sung by tiny birds in aromatic southern coniferes down by the shore.
Just let me be, just let me breathe;
Just don’t ask me to speak in the vague little chunks int
My world is not your world
But I want you to meet me
In fields where I can breathe
On mountains where I am free
My paths are not your vision
But won’t you walk with me for just one day
Below trees whispering of old dreams
On silent dust, through drumming rain
My feet cross lands you’ll never know
But just once, follow the threads I lay
Across stones marking secret smiles
Back to hazy borderlands
Meet me there, in places you haven’t learned to realize
Two levels down, up the broken stairs, brush off the faded varnish
Unsee the walls, slip through the cracks, meet me some day.
Still the stars are spinning
Meet me below their trails,
find me on the hill
Still our star is burning
Find me in a fire-lit cave,
meet me when the cold has won for the night
Still we are travelling on silent orbit
Keep watch with me when the turnings seems to hasten
Tell the wordless stories, sing familiar songs on repeat
Remind me the sky still is there
When you find me
Make the stars spin,
make them dance for me,
make the stars spin,
crashing burning shadows in the sea –
Make the stars spin,
follow blazing trails in wakening dreams,
make the stars spin,
colours running together at our minds’ seams –
Make the stars spin,
follow me, let’s ride on comet tails,
make the stars spin,
ride with me when language fails.