hues of time

I remember

the night

I left the cold earth

hum and smoke

leaving the table

I recall

drunk yellow mirror

clean as a koan

in the midnight laughter

after a few exhausting sighs

I remember

being of wood stone and remnant

colliding with the sounds

in flight with the seagulls –

the coitus of light

and erect darkness

water essences

splashing in metallic

eruptions of silence

and life below as weed

flourishing in the gravel,

a small pocket of existence

green, trammeled within

a nook of hallucinated earth;

the wind comes along

to stroke our hairs

I remember

the lazy morning light

stretching on the ground

sleeping next to our shadows

in a way

so real

that I dipped my hand

between the furrows of noon

releasing the song and fury

of all ephemeral hues.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

from iceland

Iceland poem

Morning

wild tai-chi circles

hunch and then roar

 

two eyes open in dawn

red melancholy –

the only earth

for the heart

 

vermilion sun

to shine on the memory

sudden within a rock

four petals of essence

anywhere

 

a moth joins the horizon

curtains of light

from punctured clouds

in the expanse of sand

only one stone is fully awake

 

many have gathered

in syrups of time

 

anything could happen

while my youth is

still dying for black illusions

 

four hints of essence

 

somewhere

 

white sorrow

resting as sweetly

as snow

on the solitary fields

of my thought

 

the beautiful

wrinkled chaos

that left a scar

on the softer skin

of a black revolving rose

Modern Poetry