When the rhymes comes, you will know if we are right
As the subtle sun and murdered moon re-light
Agents of the devil eat the stars
Use them indeed to light cigars
The fish will shell your peas and even write
That they will help you make love in the night
You know you have a mental appetite
Avoid birds as they always see too far
When the rhyme comes.
When the mountains fall down into the great lakes
Leonard Cohen objects that life is fake
As he drinks his fortieth brandy in the bar
He wonders what the President will dare
Will he take the world down by a like?
When the rhyme comes.
Day: May 23, 2017
Bless the continuous stutter of the Word being made into flesh
Flying away, I’ll never come home.
Dark in the morning,the windows are grey.
Dark in my heart,where nothing can stay.
Dark in the evening, dark in the night.
Only the cat’s eyes to give me some light.
Knocked off the glove box down in the hall
Knocked over the bin,found nothing at all.
Knocked down your photograph, stood on the glass.
Like me, he’s just reached the last impasse.
Waiting for what,nas we sit here alone?
Waiting for nobody,heart like a stone.
Waiting on God sounds rather strange.
Let’s say that grace can’t be pre-arranged.
Dark again,dark, where you fell into earth.
Darker and darker, a saturnine curse
Darkness around me, darkness inside.
Washed it all up on the evening tide.
Goodbye our future, fiction in fact.
Goodbye,did you say it with your special tact?
Goodbye,you never said it, you never addressed
The one who was with you,but never caressed.
Is it impossible to run it again?
Is it a fancy that can but remain?
Life’s just a film and we are the stars…
But when the reel stops,we fall so far.
Flying away, I saw the hand stuck,
Turning the reel to make this world work.
Flying away, I’ll never come home.
Turning and turning forever alone.
Saturnine from Merriam Webster
It’s the media
Definition of saturnine
-
1: born under or influenced astrologically by the planet Saturn
-
2a : cold and steady in mood : slow to act or changeb : of a gloomy or surly dispositionc : having a sardonic aspect a saturnine smile
Like archaic floods
When we’re hit, infected by disease
Especially of the systems, like the blood.
The mind can drop, depressed and ill at ease
We over- ruminate, on subtle causes grieve.
A pity that our brain is not just wood
With fortune then mistaken by disease
If drugs which kill bacteria,minds relieve
We understand why thinking was no good
The body was depressed and lacked true ease
Gentle music, touch and calm relieve
The nervous system , make our hearts feel good
When the mind’s depressed by our disease
So if your friend has moods which may displease
Remember they are made of flesh and blood
The brain can be pulled down and even freeze.,
Fever makes the barriers sink to mud
Unconscious feelings roll out like archaic floods
When you are affected by disease
Ban all thinking, wait for time’s release.
When we feel we’re falling piece by piece
When we are made so lonely by our grief
When we lose the loved one of our years
Remember life is sacred and too brief
Some may gain their comfort from a priest
Other by the emptying of their tears
Can we be too careless in our grief?
Blown away like one dried autumn leaf
Disconnected with our hearts so seared
Remember life is sacred and too brief
Death is more forgiving to the least
We may share the anguish and the fear
When we are made too lonely by our grief
When we feel we’re falling piece by piece
We wonder how to dignify by prayer
Remembering life is sacred and too brief
Just as the sun will rise up in the East
Despite it dying daily everywhere
We are all made lonely by our grief
Life is hard and often it’s unfair
We may feel so much we cannot bear
When we are made lonely by our grief
We remember life is sacred and too brief
I know that being sad is no disgrace
The bell rang on the ancient church at noon. A sparrow flitted to the Tudor wall. Was this the knell which brings us damned gloom? Perhaps there is no meaning here at all. I read my unknown thoughts projected out, And in my rage, desire the walls to fall. Like you, I am too often stuck in doubt. Betrayed by old ideal and vanished wish. So what is in confuses that without. Oh,pain, oh ,mind, oh agony, oh flesh. I shall not cling to life and wait for grace. I am, myself, a fish in net of mesh. Was this my destiny, my rightful place; Alone besieged by sorrows on all sides? I err for being sad is no disgrace. So ,to my hopes, I’ll cling like drowning beast, Until my invitation to the feast.
And so you went, but left your patterns here.
The pattern of your speech dwells in my ear Although I do not hear you speak out loud Shall I say ear or is it heart that bears The form that made your speech have rightful sound? Wherever in myself I find your trace I long to keep it even when I grieve. As though, because I do not see your face, I never wish by sound to be deceived. And at the end you did not speak at all Like the baby while inside its little nest. Yet with your eyes you made a final call As contented as a baby joined to breast. And so you went, but left your patterns here. So while I write like this, I feel you near
