The Geranium Hotel Poems

I'm the real reason As the world erodes And I can feel what I need While I see the point Lasers come from who you are The man you have grown to be I know the real thing has yet to come But as the jeans are pulled off The rain seems to fall backwards And love conquers none LOVE CONQUERS NONE El conquistador where are you? Smoking bullet shells left on a stage With you in the yellow I become a reason A shadow for the nightmare to call Another madness that needs naming The movement in the mirror Leading you amongst the dust There is one valley none know of A number that is infinity's everything The graceful beginning The tattered but proud ending With lasers coming from the sound of your steps I know the man you are The man you have grown to be

You can't grasp but you gasp the earth swallows and you are on your way Walkings mine Mornings fine Lovers take theirs And we should take the real estate Peach orchard Things get too hard Some days need warnings Some boys need aeroplanes

Im found turned up on the couch Next to you while you watch Bond I have the land of Oz under my tongue There is no where for this day to run Except out I can touch my own sense of daily pattern And I know this town like I know my own information I can hear the music I want to hear And I feel myself grow bigger In every way Sulky countries aren't too far away One tin plane and one dead month I can hear the moments and I don't know if you will get the postcard I know where the sun is I know where it will set There is every chance I will wish at least one wish tonight And with all those horses waiting for their riders It makes me wonder It makes me think of what is best And the drummer shouldn't worry Like the blue eyed that scan the page looking for the saved soul We can find it Planes fly a long way We walk along dirt paths And the crescent eyes are guided by words that are said to the hills I can think of the sun I can think of the speakers Spanish...

           Its late in the afternoon   The shadow, it         draws against the pavement                                 I am the only audience      That it will ever have...

Tell me when did I sign up for this? Tell me another name for this servitude Lost in the streets of your adopted hometown Where the spring comes late And the smell of damp earth never leaves your clothes Out of the triangle you can see the far flowers you can see paw prints in the snow When your head is filled with rhyme and nonsense where you sit beneath the elm And you talk to the shadow about the truth About being drunk on a farm of terror And you can hear a drum in the distance But it means nothing It means nothing Like an apology from America Or an acorn in Canada So lets not pull the teeth of Sydney Bay Like the thread that you use to tie around your finger Remembering French phrases on the piano at night We cant see beyond the triangle We know the algebra, we know the course But the lyrics have been washed from the bay's beach And we can only mumble and move our mouths Along with the guitarists actions Along with the governor and the mayor's bell ...

You put the ghost back on the shelf And you beg to know the way As the starlings fly Side by side Their wings cold Sliding in the night All around them clouds in orbit Never touching Crowns held high As you hear the click on the pavement Of shoes outside your door And the capital cities fade As the sunshine catches the handle Like love found in a letter Easy with that angel Easy with that weapon of economics We know you have the heart of a lion And the hand of a coward at war Happy only when silence is on the tongue A bitten finger and the smell of sweat You put those ghosts back in the cupboard And maybe it's time to leave You are the line that will not be crossed The bandage that is too tight Reality finds these days Too easily, too aghast But hey, you put that ghost back on the shelf Next to the old book of dust The book of sarcasm and healthy sex With spinning tops and daffodils I know you are the honey haired fruit of the garden But I can'...

Gone is what I once knew The great beat against the song All the salt in the all the tears Has dried against the wound Like water slipping from the leaf The velvet decay of a forrest's floor We should have carved our names in rock Met dawns on the empty mountain's side The reflection has gone Leaving nothing shiny, nothing captured No word of shame or shaky sight Gone is the sleep, the phase of night It is the furtherest fall and the noise birds It is the thought of wasted time With no coins left to throw in an unclean well Holding photographic paper Like precious faith uncurled There is everything you need on the forrest floor With the noise of birds above tarnished thought Have what you want from the rooms of dust Carry what you can on the road from slumber We can turn around and keep our own secret We can sleep by the fires that burn our hopelessness It was the future that got us far It was the itching miles that took us to the snow and the sea An...