collectibles

Stars and stripes, kites and clouds
mice and boards, zen and fords

Rhymes that rhyme, names that dont
And reasons, sometimes they fit
sometimes they dont

time that flies, friends who drift
music that fades ,music that grows
fresh laughter, uncanny moments
sunday morning thoughts, monday morning blues
grow up! I tell my friends
YOU grow up, they answer back :)

Like prose, like poetry and something in between
coincidences, the law of averages
invitations, coffee and conversations

stranger who smiles , traffic that piles
different days,a moment that stays

Little storms that rage in littler teacups,
Little stars that twinkle far far away
moments of madness, moments of hope
friends that have changed, friends who wont

A little pull of the great beyond
now and then..
the sunlight that burns a golden coin in my palm
the rains that come and go like a saviour
And now and then, a little time to stand and stare.

anticipation

he wants to cross the river

..there are sharp rocks under the gurgling waters
there is sand on its bed that turn to gold in the sunlight
there are memories from a thousand years
of life and death

He is building a boat to cross the river
rough wood hewn from the woods
Hewing rough wood with his gnarled hands
he is building a boat to cross the river

The moonlight will turn its waters into a silver splash
and on its waves will splash little fish and mermaids
His oars will scatter little drops of silver
his bow will slice though scattered waves
When he crosses the river.

I believe he will make it to the other side...

Reveries

Like a train slithering into the darkness through longing patches of paddy
Here a familiar sight, there darkness,
The only certainty is motion;
When movement has become the reason and not the means

The darkness an uncertainty of possibilities
And not the simple fluid invisibility that it usually is

Its a caravan out there, its a riot of colors, its empty space out there
Its this face at the window, that voice through the wind,these hands on my lap

And piercing through all these,

The train whistling, piercing the night into two..