Almost Full Moon
The almost full moon
Flirts with me shamelessly from
Its bed in the humid night,
Now veiled, now unveiled
By wispy clouds,
Like a girl’s linen blouse coming off and then on again.
August 2009.
Almost Full Moon The almost full moon Flirts with me shamelessly from Its bed in the humid night, Now veiled, now unveiled By wispy clouds, Like a girl’s linen blouse coming off and then on again.
0 Comments
February 2009.
In Mexico Let’s run away to Mexico. Let’s go, go, go to Mexico. Let’s jump in the car and hit the road And get ourselves to Mexico. Be expatriate gringos. We’ll live in misery in Mexico. Find a flat in Mexico. Rob a bank in Mexico. Go by bus or plane or hitch a ride, And take our misery to Mexico. I can love you here or in Mexico. I’ll hate you, too, in Mexico. We’ll find a place and be gringos And plant our misery in Mexico Like William Buroughs. February 2009.
The Sleepwalker It looks like the end, Opening my eyes, Seeing her glory Like fading sunlight Sending showers of orange autumn leaves Melting like whispers in my dreams. The air is kissing her skin, and then it’s kissing mine, and I am a sleepwalker through her golden life. Everything fades to bronze and red. Drawing aside the curtain of tears, angels’ faces ride every shoulder. Waking is the hardest part of life, Then living is like walking in a dream Sending flowers to a friend Who isn’t home. It’s just the beginning. Names don’t change. Apologies can’t be spoken. Girls walk away clean, And all that’s left is the sleepwalking With open eyes through their golden lives, And then writing about it, Like a letter-to-the-editor. July 2008.
The Box Build a box. Build it with faith in your memories. Put all your memories of me inside it. Keep it safe, Keep it close and keep it dear forever. Remember me, please remember me For who I was Not who I hoped to be. Forget the promises I made and did not keep. Put those away inside your box, And keep them deep inside you, In your heart or in your body warm. Remember me, Remember everything about me, How I walked, how I talked, A sample of my writing or my hair, And how I wandered like a lostling in a world I never made. Oh, won’t you please remember me If only just one moment, With a soft and gentle disposition In the sun or in the rain In the spring or on your summer holiday. While making love with other men Or sitting by the Christmas fire with your lover Remember me like myth and poetry, And like rivers aflow with blood and dreams of love, Like words that fell as crystal sugar from a million mouths, Through fingertips and pens, Like a reflection in a mirror. I’ll be there somehow, Walking as in sleep for ever, Conjured into some form from your box of faith. You go your way and I’ll go mine And we won’t meet on this earth again. I failed, I failed, I failed And then I slipped away forever in accidental mediocrity. So build a box And put all your memories of me in side it. Keep it safe and call it the place where faith and reason meet. You will see my face in your dreams of memory Like a child crying. We’ll meet again somewhere but never touch. My memory is yours to keep like a shadow or a reflection Inside your box of faith. March 2008.
Ticket Outta Here Baby, baby, baby I wanna get outta this place. I wanna be a rock star, baby, And I wanna get outta this place. I admit I’m afraid of ev’rything, baby, But still I want outta this place. But if you stay with me ev’ry day, baby, Then we can make a real good plan. If you stay with me ev’ry day, baby, I’ll be your one and only man. You got a warm body, baby. That surprises me and I’m sayin’ I can’t understand. So I’ll crawl to you and be your one and only man. So let’s get our tickets outta here, baby. I can drive or fly or sit or stand. Let’s get our tickets real soon, baby, And disappear like we’re on the road, man. Ev’ryone we know will ask themselves, baby, What ever happened to those two? And wherever we are, baby, We’ll look at the moon and know ev’ryone’s looking at the same moon, too. But that won’t fix my heart, baby, When I want to see my home again. So let’s go the whole way, baby, A ticket outta here means we’re on our way home at last. February 2008.
Infatuation I knew you first. So what does that mean? It means you’re mine forever and I am yours. Fate brought us together but never joined us. You are everything And life is a living hell without you. But we’ll be together again in the Afterlife To continue tormenting each other there. Or is it just I who will torment you? August 2007.
My Five o’clock Coffee Shop Girl She was my 5 o’clock coffee shop girl And I never knew her name. Every day she passed by And sat in the same corner once again. I saw her in summer in her tight fitting white jeans, Reading Richard Bach. And I saw her in autumn in her Scottish plaid skirt, Holding Michael Crichton. Then I saw her in winter in her bright red, hand-knit sweater. Margaret Atwood was at her elbow. And again in the spring with her leather shoulder bag with fringe From which she pulled Dostoyevsky. She was my 5 o’clock coffee shop girl And I never knew her name. 5 o’clock was all we had and it only came once day after day. |
AuthorI am a permanent foreign resident in Japan. I have no plan. I don't know what I'm doing. Archives
April 2024
Categories
All
|