Running down hill,
Rushing past many things.
Perhaps time is not too relevant when you are running fast.
We shall arise.
We will see for ourselves
What this world will become.
Just a little jumps,
That’s all that is needed.
10.6.2019
Month: October 2019
Cheers
All what’s been done and said,
It’s been a good ride, alright.
In between the shades of orange trees, basking in the sun, scent of lemon freshly fleeting by so fast,
Wandering in forest of grey buildings, feeding little kittens pieces of peanut butter sandwich underneath a neon sign,
Singing an anthem we do not understand at all and beating our hearts to it,
It’s been alright, a wave worth riding
Through it all, when said and done, square and fair.
I’d do it again. Yes, I would.
10.5.2019
Clown
Where should i begin with this
This bottomless pit,
The craziness that has not started
Nor stopped where does this go and where does this end
When can i live and when can i say what i want and do what i feel like i want to do
Do do do I live like this? for how long how long does it take? what does it take? why does it take so much?
Ah the dance, the dance of a clown is so funny, so ephemeral, an apotheosis of an arterial flow of living things on this earth.
Why should i bother
Why should i care
What can matter?
Where is the death? Where is the light? Where is the truth? Where is the warmth?
Is there an end to this suffering? Is there anything else than the denials, the roman honor and all the glories in the world?
Why
Why
Why
What is an answer to this? Is there an answer? There must be. It must be. What should be done?
Ah, perhaps I know. Perhaps i suggest we sing. Sing out of our lungs the dances, the whistle and the thrusts.
Perhaps, that’s what all it matters.
Perhaps, that’s where it all ends.
Perhaps, this is where we say good morning.
10.4.2019
Trident
Vast sky may have overrun with grey shrewd clouds,
Brewing a luminous lightening veiled in diaphanous mist,
Rancorous drum rolling and roaring.
Mercurial ocean waves forms a precipitous rampart,
a façade to a bereaved cause.
Once remembered, once sought after again, nobility shall return.
10.3.2019
Happinesss
Grenade balloons won’t do it
Serenade by millions of clowns won’t do it
Cascades of golden milk won’t do it
Perhaps the dance of last summer is what counts.
But poems soak and bleed their ink
Heated strokes of heart cool down
Flesh so tender will wither
Well then.
I hope my probated story will last,
And that my eyes now are clear
10.1.2019
Shot
After a shower of sweats,
Cold tears in a dark room,
Dawn breaks beyond the horizon.
“You took the shot”—
Yes, this morning glow is what I’ve been waiting for.
All the swords that dug deep within my flesh dissolves into a shadow.
“You took the shot”
Yes, I did. And I’ll take more shot,
Until I hit a star.
9.30.2019
Ralph with Coffee 