From: India
About me: About me? Well.. Recluse, dysphoric, morose, inane, insane, caffeine-addict, misread, ascetic, platitudinal, dreamer, volatile, scathing, auspicate, deviant, disparate, iridescent, chatoyant, irate, morbid, colors, canvas, creation, hue, saturation, redemption, vehement, profound, intense, abysm, aphoristic, bound? Creative, encumbered, blasphemous, extant, sentient, opiate? Absurd, moronic, loony, preposterous, harebrained? Plastic blue conversations, paradoxes, anomalies, threnodies, acousmas, delusions, illusions, soliloquies?
Friday, September 28, 2007,11:03 PM
Warmth
Between terrified feathers, between nights
And magnolias and telegrams,
Between southerly winds and winds from the sea blowing West,
You come flying.
Beyond the wind's sting and mortality
Between cankers and violets
In your heavenly voice, with the wet on your shoes
You come flying.
Beyond autumn skies, orange winds,
And reddened earth and dry leaves,
In the purple of the night, with the wind stinging your face
You come flying home.
Between terrified feathers, between nights
And magnolias and telegrams,
Between southerly winds and winds from the sea blowing West,
You come flying.
Beyond the wind's sting and mortality
Between cankers and violets
In your heavenly voice, with the wet on your shoes
You come flying.
Beyond autumn skies, orange winds,
And reddened earth and dry leaves,
In the purple of the night, with the wind stinging your face
You come flying home.
,10:58 PM
Scarlet
If I look
At the crystal moon, at the red branch
Of the slow autumn at my window,
If I touch
Near the fire
The impalpable ash
Or the wrinkled body of the log,
Everything carries me to you,
As if everything that exists,
Aromas, light, metals,
Were little boats
That sail
Toward those isles of yours, that wait for me.
If I look
At the crystal moon, at the red branch
Of the slow autumn at my window,
If I touch
Near the fire
The impalpable ash
Or the wrinkled body of the log,
Everything carries me to you,
As if everything that exists,
Aromas, light, metals,
Were little boats
That sail
Toward those isles of yours, that wait for me.
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net