Saturday 27 November 2010

To Work

*MP*

From diamond clouds of paradise,
Slowly from bed into another battle
Of corduroy and concrete.

Hours melt into days
Wheeling through the universe.
Coffee? Go on. One Cup. No sugar.

And another...

Companies have a thousand monkeys
Swimming in circles, morning to night
In a room with one window - the only light.

A ghostly picture of grass. A tree. A park.
Delicious dreams flooding from their golden cup
Into an ocean of yesterdays.

In a question of need and want
Will need always triumph?

Desires are rainbows blazing on the sky,
Perhaps to be explored only in secret.

Those Words

*MP*

I remember those golden words,
Singing, lingering, haunting;
Hot with the breath from ghostly voices
Blown away in streaming memory.

Surrounding old gods with magic.
Not sacred words but from a spirit
Soaked in glory, free to shine.
I must remember them