Nursing scorched wings, you angel in disguise,
wondering gypsy with question mark eyes,
wandering homesick – no answers, no rest,
and for companions your demons at best.
What a rich,
being you can be being!
And being …
And being …
Projects smoke screens of promises and lies,
defends to the death, then later denies.
Flexible conscience, ethical mare’s nest.
Defensive? Fastest gun in the west!
And in the centre a wise,
that sees it all
and breathes in
and breathes out,
to the passing show.
And with detachment the fool becomes wise,
finds what never was lost. What a surprise!
Hidden in full view. Who’d ever have guessed?
Welcome, my angel, be welcome, be my guest.
who will be,
and will only
Somewhere out there I swear
Or else on reflection
Somewhere inside exists
That I am in search for
Veiled by cloud the sun
Still supplies sufficient light
To kindle the search
All passages of thought
So if you ever get bored
Your mind …
If you stop
You don’t have to start again …
Acres of space
Bumper to bumper
THE MAGICAL ACT
Teaching is love
Which is to give
…..the space to breathe
…..asking nothing in return
Teach me to love
…..and teach in my turn
Paying back to the spirit of man
THE BIG CHOICE
Time to realise
that fundamental question
your inner voice asks
will never be “Yes or no?”
But rather “Now or later?”
IN HIS CUPS
A sip of wine
A hint of melody …
Melt into lavaflows
Unleash unadmitted yearnings
Challenge this paltry masquerade
Yelled from minaret or pulpit
Hounded by fatwa and heresy
Across the centuries, this dented I
Which has, for all of that brouhaha
Such shallow roots
Must be why they ban
These dangerous demons
While we for our part
Fight tooth and nail
To retain or else regain
These royal roads
Looks like it’s not sufficient to be clever
You can still end up in the lost-and-found
You can split the scene or stand your ground
It’s been that way since forever
No rock solid link to Spirit whatsoever
None of our conjectures are too sound
You hit multilingual traps, rebound
Somersault screaming, “Never!”
Yet how to survive in a dull world while sharp
And not end up in the lost-and-found still
Whether giving in or refusing to budge?
An open verdict, an absentee judge
Endlessly replaying “The World According To Garp”
You can read on the scoreboard the result: Nil Nil