literary piece

The Runner I Watched

You ran and I was watching you run
in circles around me
Like a runner in ecstasy of winning
an illusive trophy.

Warm it was, that night.

I said plenty I realize
it must have been too much
but not enough
clearly not enough.

This torture
of inexperience is not enough
We are left with none
to begin with.

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Long Dis

somebody’s playing a song
of long distance love
my hum in the background

between phone calls
and dinners
we can call it a long distance love

if by every step you walk on,
we can count the times we walked together
if it was yesterday
maybe we can do it again

Lune

If by reason
I need to follow
I would rather be mad.

To follow is to lose
the shine of darkness and
my world in its empty delight.

Velvety moss,
dipped in hollow verses
when I lay I look and imagine
to fly to cry.

To fly, I went
and held in my hands
the yellows, the blues, and the reds
until each dies into black abyss.

And looking down
eternal deaths in a maze
half in the glinting sun
the rest in the sight of lune.

 

Intoxicated

I am uneasy,
uneasy, uneasy.

Overwrought, synonymous.

My handsa re clammy.
My head is spinning
like a ballet dancer
in an unending act
still spinning and spinning
my spindly feet en pointe.

The note in octaves hammering
trembling lights, thundering lows.

Repeat, on loop, staggering
still spinning.

Trip

Cab, bus, black car, red truck,
buses, cars,
cabs,
trucks.

Lights. Signal lights.

The train.

Buses and cars.
Trucks and cabs.
A motorcycle.

Green. Orange. Red.
Green. Yellow. Red.

Stop. 60 seconds. Bottleneck.

Heavy traffic.

Castle Tristesse

The isolation is home
where voices are the fortress,
high and unequivocal.

The Eyes are witnesses
and to peruse their only object.

Hidden in recluse
borders the intermittent
a wont — to escape.

A soul fleeting against the wind
billowing graceless and out!
to return by eve

home and fortress.

A

Maybe I loved you
when the stars were different from tonight
they still shine
but not the same light
now faded and wandering
from yesterday’s dreaming.

You were there but never captured
in pictures long forgotten
around the round surrounding me.

I should have known you then
when I knew you when
like I know you now
under different skies, calmer seas.

Birds have flown,
the moon a thousand nights risen.

I gazed openly at your face
a maze, a treasure found in rains long dried
without a map to never tell.