The blank sheet, tabula raza, mind fall-
is a sponge of life in this moment,
when every wisp of wind sweeps like a tide,
the flicker of a fly's wings, a fascination,
and the jazz man's horn
forms a cornucopia of vivid dreamlets;
streamlets flown in the spring's thaw of spirit,
joined to gurgling streams, mist-cloud cascades.
The world on a string of pungent thought
a thought of the woman and last night
the woman I wanted and never saw again
again the dream of a moment I would remake
the mistake that teaches the ache
of an unforgiven silence
and floating away to dream again
to re-arm for the assault of day
the challenge to be no less than to be
resist the will to shrink away, when time
spares nothing, and the race is yet won...
by the weary
________________________________
Miles Davis, Jazz Musician, and in this instance:
My Funny Valentine, and Something I dreamed Last Night
by the Miles Davis Quintet.
Showing posts with label PK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PK. Show all posts
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
from her...
So many ways to see a life
in endless rings and things done and not,
from a reckoned moment: now to this;
from the shocks that rock the wagon
when life is a traveler on a tortured road.
I revel in the glows of so many afters,
when loving made the purpose of being;
the memories of skin have their own meanings.
In heights of happiness, into a valley without,
when light seemed like waters of the desert
and loneliness like the waters of the seas,
there were moments that knitted me.
They held me to become such,
piece by piece into a whole.
And then...there were
simply, times that keep me;
a moment in the sun of your love
that left your shadow on my soul.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)