Monday, November 21, 2011

The Path

Sometimes while strolling along little paths,
I lose my way into sideways.
There they tell me I am in a wrong kind of situation
Behind schedule on a rainy day
Wasting everybody’s time and mine
And gnawing at all the sights and sounds
Slowly giving them a bad name
Placing huge castles in little bottles of glass
Perhaps I should leave or lie down
And wait until I am punished enough.

Some of those strangers call me
They call me “Oh boy”
Maybe you forgot your name
Where did you come from, and where do you

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Little Thing

Every little thing is looping anyway
Going round and coming around
And resting for some time while
It watches your movements
With jealous eyes, noting
Your breath, playing against you
But then it returns
And melds into the unknown,
Building what it forgot
Because of you.

Thursday, November 3, 2011


you are an artist
afraid of life

and bust goes your rhythm
shards bouncing on the pavement

the sun very bright and hot