There are songs

There are songs within sounds that echo the breath of eternity.

i sing,

the universe incarnate from these lips

which twist in forming syllables,

moulding decibels,

fragmenting time's continuum,

lost in a universe of verse.

Inner space cannot hear what is not felt

since for rhymes to sound, molecules must resound

shattering the serenity of being in tune

to silence,

still time.

While time binds minds to the tangible

rhyme frees minds from time.

As placed lips contour the origin of sounds

sculpted hearts predate the origin of thoughts.

Must i then curve my heart strings 

to intellectual things

before i learn to think with an action less complex?

I guess its true then.

My love is a notion,

drowned by a wave of perception.

thoughts thrown to anchor my heart 

only add to its heaviness.

one night....

i met her in a bar

eyes open, tights torn,

skirt short, soul worn

parading this assortment

for one to see through this guise.

she wanted to be seen

as she was before there was flesh

before there were bones

scattered en route to her thoughts

leading men to warped glimpses

of her essence

she wanted to be known

as it was when we existed as smoke signals

seen as spiralling clouds

charting our route to the sky

mapping our distance from the earth's core.

from our joint heart.

she wanted to be undressed

and unknown to the eyes of now.

unknown and felt

in distances relative

to a family tree she once knew,

weaving inbred branches,

leaves searching for the sun

wrapping lifetimes with its roots.

'oh brother where art thou?

i've stumbled only through lovers and wanderers

looking for a body

closer to my core'

she searched for love-like properties

in a compound element.

the formula her past handing her so jading her heart

it acquired the colour purple.

in vain she sampled masculine frames,

balanced frames make perfect shades,

tinting the windows of her soul.

i met her

soul in a bar,

stripped to its essence,

tied around her waist

in tightly wound knots

resembling bow-ties

resembling tied bows

aimed at hearts,

her body a sometimes dart.

i met her body in a bar

saw the axis of her pain

around which revolved her heart,

in slow circular motion.

slow enough to regard its trobbing,

giving clues to the speed

of her swaying body,

which, if held in the right time

could led to me touching her soul.

wrapped tightly, dirty and torn,

by fingers trying to unravel her.

i washed my hands of my past

i forged my family tree

i stole her heart

tied it with my roots

covered it with my branches

i unclipped her bra-strap

untied her soul,

and as it fell

in our moment of communal solitude

i whispered

i can see inside you.

its just my soul hovering

between us,

she replied,

i'm miles away.

i can see beyond you

now my body's free to roam.

she

She had nothing but time on her hands

and flowers on her palms,

blossoming psalms that spoke of forever.

She took the sun in her mouth,

placing rays on her tongue

filtering beams to her lungs

until her words glowed with existence.

She speaks an illuminated language

coloured with blood and years

She wrapped her hands in syllables 

and placed them on her womb,

crescent shape radiating words of the sun.

Years habituating deceased cultures 

forced her to speak a language extinct,

some strange garble of projected stigma.

Now, bearing an unlikely future 

heir to nothing yet all the air

she would be taught from the inside out,

enlightened.

darkness

i refuse to be seen by mortals

trading dreams for seams of a badly fitted perception.

So wrap me with the night,

that my flight may go unnoticed 

by terrestrial beings who only see matter 

radiating light.

Mine is a cloak of darkness

devoid of all historical connotations.

For as man evolved

beyond the superficial elements of flesh,

some wouldn't believe and stumbled the earth

with eyes rolled back in their sockets.

Forgetting that the pupil is such,

in learning to see beyond itself.

those who saw the light embraced the darkness

and the mysteries of the unseen

now they have surrendered

and prostrate themselves to the will of the universe.

Led by the darkness

that guides stars.

Planets seldom use torch lights

to navigate the sun.

Hand me the sun

Hand me the sun and i'll carve waves from rays,

bottled streams of beams

shimmering like the tide on a cloudless night.

Contained motion,

rocking with the flow of blood through veins,

life matter contained 

aglow with the sea's jubilant movement.

The tide is the earth's heartbeat,

i etch this pulse through the sun,

causing light to come in staves

bars of transparent rhythm captured

in a moment seen through my vase.

Can i now ingest this earth essence?

that my body may contain waves of light

so my soul can move and glow

with the tidal flow of an encapsulated 

wilderness brought to sight.

that i may dance

through nights and converse through days

with this rhythmic sway

moving through me and in me,

and in this moment of motion,

i shall be free to see

the glow that came  before,

before i was flesh,

before i was motion,

before there was motion.

And the sea continues to be lit.