The Midnight Hunt

Tonight the riot
Redrush wildfires
Amplified thunderpipes
Swivelling streams
Of hotsweat arms
Above our heads
This midnight throbbing
Trance of nerves
Above the clouds
And bloodrain trumpets
Flags and streamers
Tonight the awakening
And fountains of starburst
Of heartsplit anger.
Night is here a kiss
Of swirling lovesmoke
Of waves tangled
Armslipslegs
Children of the neon wild
Ebb and pine
Ebb and pine
Feel these tears
Rolling down
These fears
Crystal clear
In here there was always something
Spiraling into the blackred
Of your hair
Curling clouds
And whisp of jasmine
And gunpowder snaking
Cold around your neck
Young and white
Swim along the waves
The snake awakes
To the song of the temple flower
When death is served
On a silver platter
Let me in inside
Innermost deep
And echoing ancient
Cold caress
Love you to death
I love you to death
Spurt of blood the last frontier
Arching arching smoke ring arch
Around the thighs shivering white
Face in sand we ebb and pine

Morning in Blue minor

This morning is softyellowtouchingwhite
Like you and your fadedcandle light.
Like your teardrop on my cheek.
Like finger on lips.
Like curtainscushionscanvas.

Like waiting for your touch
After the midnight hunt.

The sea is a sleepy swirl
Around the blackspeck rocks.
The whitewings have dropped
And boats hang like fragile whitebrown leaves
From my cigarette smoke vine,
Then float as silently as an afterthought
Into the blackcoffee mug.

This morning
(With the clouds blurred and smudged into the sky)
We celebrate
The end of the flame-red hunt
The end of the blackred night
With emptiness.

Star Water

[Electronic heartbeat pulsating through the mind with voices laughs and screams bursting around like laser lit bubbles. Breathes heavily out of anticipation as the needle kisses the blood and sends flashes like comets to the head and floating down the spine. He begins to drown in a strange beautiful yellow smoke like heaven metal, an ocean of motion.]

“Hey, you ok? Don’t try to fight it. Relax. Just let it fade in.”

[It fades in, and begins to eat him and burn him, and he explodes for five minutes and then everything is black and quiet like a white dwarf.]

Blackred

Rien n'est demande,
Rien n'est dit,
Tout se situé dans le silence.

Create and Murder

La Femme De Mer

Spread yourself out like that.
Like only you can.
Again.

Again.
Like the twilight mist sprawled over a stilldark sea
That golden waves lick and smell, touch and kiss.
And your eyes want to reach for that hint of red that knocks at your horizon.

That's how, with your stormwind whispers, and redflash embrace, you killed me.
Remember me.

Not leaving

After many days of being alone,
Both in private and public,
Brought to tears by pretty strangers
Who wear their hair wild
And speak softly to the air
While tearing paper napkins;
(And when) one finds himself waking up
To the holy songs of deserts
Sung in a chorus to a black and grey city,
and the nights are sweetened by music,
Softened by a drink or two
Of your favourite black eyes,
Lost eyes in the crowd,
One begins to forget
Where he began
And what he meant to find
In the box that he held so close
While walking the dusty roads.

Stranger than

After all; after all of it, the yellow and purple rain of flowers and moments like pauses on cloudy days; after the unveiling of a white hot labyrinth and climbing ruins of lovetales lost over a million summer winds, he finds himself estranged once again, in the midst of a blue cave lit by dirty fluorescent lights that make faces look like photographs and the eyes unblink now and then.
The night crashes in, and the wheels harmonise with the wind. A thirsty girl in peach salwar glances, clutching on to her white salt scented handkerchief. Bagged eyes half close and then lips are licked or fingers twitch and the spell is broken by the cry of midnight babies whose mothers, clad in yellow and then black, are too tired to put them to sleep.
And tomorrow evening will be a dawn to a new beginning. Again.

Afterlove

Between the fading twilight and the smell of night
When the clouds, blushing red, sung to us of promised lands;
We dreamt in soft, timid whispers.

"Kiss me."

"Only if you let me kiss your hair first."

"You're mad!"

"No.The redness of my love has made me red."

And how I loved you.

But the songs of nightwind are easy to forget
When the sun begins to melt into the sky.
Unmasked then, moments die unfinished.

"You're too mad for me, and your hair too wild."

03:36

To look back daysweeksmonths later without a slight heartfelt pause to smell the brightred again and desperately clutch at the last remnants of the songsinthedistance and ending endlessly so not to lose sight of the horizon dreaming of rising above and into the bright midnight the soft spotlight and to exit after cryinginthehead and then backinthecity sufficiently but unwoken holding on to the lostness and sighs and shadows till dawn comes and then smiling for the sake of silence secretly swirling dustlike in the sunshine waiting for starlight to try again to rise above to be backinthecity sufficiently under the spotlight into the greatwide of the midnight of freelove voiceseyescomets to reach out and runrunrun into the distance beyond the songs and pauses and brightreds and endless ends till nothing can catchmeifitcan.

Still Life

For a moment the light returned though not quite the blindingwhite that it was you see but a soft illumination that came so slowly one could have mistaken it for darkness and he stared longinglybutnotgivingin although he felt his every element being sucked out by that momentary soft yellow yet refusing to be pathetic inspite of the stench and the wordslikecometsbutnotcloseenoughforwaking.

Park Street

Too full of memories not to drown.

Any Colour You Like

Grey and fading standing near doorway half lit by soft shaft of lamplight it came all at once rushing to the forefront like pink and purple and stars and clouds began to recede finally after six years and a month of overlap and a tip of the iceberg but that was all he got for all his sweating over dreams and schemes and blue blooded circuses and keeping the hair on and discoloured scented candles like the yellow of his beloved or the rainbow hair.
He cried,
for want of a smile.

Dead End

I looked out of the window:
The squared sky screen.
And you sitting next to me,
Dramatic pause overflowed;
We managed a smile
To prove a point.
But I had forgotten my lines
Or found them nauseating;
My mind shrunk from the trial,
In spite of the long wait.
Tongue-tied-twisted under the spotlight
We sit, waiting
For the spell to break,
Waiting to write our saddest lines.

Spartan

July 8, 1998 - October 21, 2006

Rainy Thursday

It's raining
Soft rain on yellow flowers
And I am swimming in the aroma
Of wet dust
And basmati rice

Fragile

Love in the afternoon;
Slow motion swirls
Like mid-day dust
In a patch of white sun.

Buildings arch backwards
And the steaming traffic
Silent, and daydreaming,
As I watch
Your hair shivering, your lips curled;
Sweat running down your naked back.

Swansong

Once upon a time
Many yellow sunsets ago
Two free birds were flying in the sky.
One free bird asked the other;
"Why don't you fly
Next to me a while,
And we'll be
Alone together
Till our freedom do us part?"

Monday morning

The crow stays home
As the morning rain
Paints the sky
In shades of grey.

Swansong

Spanish woman
You smiled for me.
A rush of red to the head
In that smoke filled wilderness.
A thousand wild eyes away
Your eyes shone for me.
Our love
Like swansong,
A flash of red,
Flamenco rain.
Spanish woman
What's your name?

Twilight

After the Sun's day
We stretch our naked souls
Across the stars
Smoke our minds
And intoxicated
By the smell of fresh dew
The artist begins
To paint
To write
To sing
To dance
To move;
The Sun smiles before she leaves.