Voyager

I'm cleaning out my cabin now
Good riddance to the obsolete
I'm kneeling down to touch a spot
That is not useful in my life.

Accumulation gets to me
Overwhelming throttling hand
I'd rather choose simplicity
and yes and no and yes again.

My attic window opens up
the tiniest bit of prospect
I saw a heart there yesterday
and light is just now fading.

The decks are cleanly scrubbed again
the ropes all sorted into piles.
They offer possibilities
to escape from such a height.

Hoisting anchor, wave again,
I'm all set to go.
Drowning I might find my way,
but now I just don't know.

Courtly love (written upon return)

Sir Smokealot, the foreign kind,
your body language reaches me not.

O Sir, I feel I owe a lot
to the patience of your eyes.

You look at me with heaven's gaze,
infinity of stars and shapes.

Your soul I know, the rest I won't
if one I know then that I don't.

With you I'll bear up any hill
insomniac squire of good will.

A curious guide, undestined yet,
no contract yet, just all implied.

O Sir, of any type a guide
would probably mislead you.

O Sir, your armour is my pride,
I'll not knowingly deceive you.

Adventure's bride with you nearby,
I'll gaze the orbs until goodbye.

Summer at mine

I guess I lost you yesterday
with anger and emotion.

I was acting out at all
the littling things you say.

Things that grow will need manure
occasional shit thrown on them.

They don't do philosophy
to blur all of their edges.

I'd take you any way you are,
not love-crazed, neither am I

A benign Vestal priest
just content in her service.

I'll stake my claim as long as I
may map your skin with kisses.

I'll find a spot there yet unknown
to lay my soothing hands.

Well I think I'll starve a while,
but that might help the growing.

Well looked poison ivy here,
it only burns in absence.

I think I lost you yesterday
and don't know how to undo it.

Ver

When you say you feel for me
you do create illusions.

When you don't say anything
I feel like drowning in pure air.

Suffocation anywhere and not a chance to breathe.
Declarations, non-issues, labels and conclusions.

Damage, doubt and liberty,
hurt and bled me even there.

Judgement, judgement everywhere,
nor a spot to breathe.

Courtesy, gods and déjà-vu,
myths of shadows' heartless care.

You'd whisper any other name
and prune what might just wreathe.

No gods are sacred, never were,
as I've been well aware.

Unsigned

The idle candle lit will burn
the dust of futile ages' waste.

The difference of a match's nudge
the light renews that had long ceased.

The heat renewed will stronger grow
the longer it's allowed to be.

The spark therefrom will fall to burn
the foreign ground, infernal blaze.

The Journey Home

The Pain you’ve caused reaches the clouds and fills every space in between.
There is no place to escape.

Two travellers on a random road, two exiles exploring the spot.
We improve each other’s gear.

We share our news and take to the road, our paths running lightened ahead.
Arrival will be just as sweet.

Tiredness comes, and you are worn, your boots could do with some mending.
I am not one to surrender.

You lose yourself yet once again, and all the joy that was in you.
Mine seems to no longer fit you.

I stand by you, a bootless bystander, our paths are to separate here.
I do not wish it at all.

You go your own way that others dictate you and wait for freedom to come.
And I’ll ever watch over you.

Trance

I'm on to something and under its spell.
It is ease, it is straight.
A thick hide for Jekyll to work.
No diversion, just me.
I am with myself and I am working.
I feel and I feel fine.
No what ifs, just the what. And me.
Oh, I'm dreamy, if I want to be.
But later, dear.
Right now I'm thinking straight.
And I don't worry about worrying.
I'll be simple and clear.
I'll not be occult.