The End Of Now

Such a whisper of a man that I see in my mind
A weak form that my memory can barely embrace
I am feeling tired in my eyes, yet the fire is burning
Will you keep me company until it is light again?
What am I avoiding and who am I fighting?
There is a soft humming that is falling around my being
As I grip my pillow and sway back and forth
All around me heaven becomes a seance of light
A giant backward glance become a dive into the salty sea
The voices are echoed but only to you
All the myths come frothing up and out of your memory
You are the dance upon the breath
The bird with the broken leg, she never gets tired of flying
And the ground is soft under your elbows and knees
Like the geese that are away for weeks are lost to us
Yet they appear once the flowers wilt and die
Bodies are left on the sweaty sheets for the night
As the stars grab at your toes and feet
Can you feel them grabbing, can you feel them pulling
Making you shuffle and making you hard
Ready for that walk through the purple night
Toward the sandy path that will lead you through the long grass
Past those bushy eucalypts that leak their sap
And house those birds that fumble awkwardly
You watch them as the pain of evening comes over
And the water isn't too far away
And there is a forest that tangles with the spray of the salt water
Like chest hair when the gun with no trigger is aimed at the heart
And that liquid apple core is twisted upon the thundering breast
A cold and lonely car goes past in the distance
The neighbours music is playing
It sounds like a twisted airplane about to crash
all above you clouds are trying to measure the distance to the earth
Paradise is fenced with wire and bordered with confusion
His language is humour and edged with knowledge of leaving
Streets are full of the hungry for the look of direction
The Sun rises on the men who fall bewailing the luck of the night
There is a man on top of me whose needs are those of every other
Although his mysteries I will never reveal
Yet the stars all push at me as I push back at them
I feel them enter me and I feel my body vanish
Disappearing to the small spot that separates now and desire
And I know this is the spot that the end of history shall take place
Yet I know the water isn't too far away
And on it I shall take my self to a man who waits
The one who trails his fingers along the ripples
And holds back the moons bitterness with his myths, stories and embraces


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

THE RIDDLE, THE FLAW, AND THE PUNISHMENT

The Moon is a Transvestite

An Ode To Pain