I
Left the bottle and the bud and headed back home;
Everyone needs to check their speed sometimes.
Chasing some fleeting, immaterial, through sepia sunsets
Reminding of something else…
something else…
Flurried wisps call out from tree lines,
To come and run through bracken woods
In perfect Winter air;
Peach sky-bowl closing in the infinities of a melon sun.
Strange scents recall from smoke some substantial hold,
Dripping snapshots caught in faded photographs;
Vicarious memories caught in frames,
Set alight by Sun's soft flames.
Did I just dream these happy scenes,
Slipping on the edge of sunset kingdom?
Or have dreams sullied those colourful waters
With the ripples of a searching oar?
II
Artificial trivialities of dark machines,
Simulated fantasies of forced symbology,
Hold the horizon from my eyes
With bricks stacked up to blotch the sky
And neon signs to stain the colour of a muted night.
Blind! Blind! Groping flesh
Caught within the tangled mesh,
Electric bonds to visual slaves,
Wearing glasses with no lens
To see the viewfinder of their trends.
Captured memories in snapshots,
a sea of faces with no use for tongues,
swollen, rotting behind preserved white tombs
drowning in the superficiality of their lives.
Once in a while everyone gets the shakes,
I need to settle down,
Need to apply the brakes.
Flee! Flee! Chase the shadows from your doubt,
Let the sunset in,
And let yourself get out!
