Maybe you’ve found the secret
To eternal happiness and joy,
Or maybe this is one huge mistake,
A broken promise all splintered,
An explosion reversing,
A star in the night sky,
A building on fire.
Maybe you’ve found the secret
To eternal happiness and joy,
Or maybe this is one huge mistake,
A broken promise all splintered,
An explosion reversing,
A star in the night sky,
A building on fire.
In a nearby flat a radio whispers,
Birdsong begins its chatter in the bushes
And giggling lovers tickle the dawn;
Rain beats its gentle rhythms on the window,
Occasional cars issue hushed rumble escapes
And those still awake
Wonder about others still awake,
Sharing sombre musings,
Dazed thoughts
Humming along to the radio,
Lost together for a moment or so
And interpreting the wind
As it hustles outside,
Alive in a fresh summer prologue,
Beginning begun.
The hidden excuse,
Lovers under willow trees,
All heady with lust,
Branches rise slightly,
And the resting birds scatter
As summertime moans,
It’s
A
Pleasure.
When I die I want my soul
To curl into rings of smoke,
Hovering at my wake
And inhaled slowly
By the ones I loved and left;
A smoke that tickles chests
And prompts a thousand memories,
Funny stories passed on,
Shared in bars and at parties
As hearts flutter happy.
I want to be kept alive in song,
In certain words strung together,
Like the passwords
Of true friendships,
A golden reason for living;
And in the midst of the forest
Where my ashes blow free,
I want to gaze at the sky,
Dizzy with peace,
Busy no longer – a bird’s song released.
I caught the never too truthful sycophants
Feasting on waste in the lay-bys,
The circling buzzards couldn’t get a look in.
The road let off the fizzy aroma of celebrity,
Dreams passed by like butterfly trails
And the birdsong concluded its fanfare.
Fame is fleeting and random by nature,
All multiple destinations unshackled from patterns,
As fragile as the beggars who crave it;
And here I am now in the left over dust clouds,
Choking on dirt that tastes like dead laughter,
The kind that you find on the Hollywood Freeway.
Here we all roll
Through our
Series of moments,
Not letting on;
And here we all stutter
As something unexplained
Shudders into our lives.
Imagine
If we did nothing
But interpret
Things differently
And glide.