Ode

Dear heart that pours this music out,
Allow me to confess out loud:
when you’re pouring out those lines,
that flow of sound with gushes of quiet
expressing what’s at the centre of you,
I am in your power.
I can do nothing but follow that stream,
and try to go where it goes,
stand in the midst of it
let it overflow me
for I want to touch it’s source
let it resonate with me;
so loudly that it moves my core

Make it cut right through me
and relentlessly lay bare
what’s inside that was forgotten,
or swept aside to be ignored,
overgrown by time.
Open up the wounds below
put them out in open air
let tears of salt fall in and burn
and clean them out to show the truth
of any open endings.
till gently they’ll be washed away
And all that’s left is here and now
and being moved by you.

stir

tastes like iron salty coffee
depending on the the space it’s in
hard yet bendable
with enough heat and proper pressure placement

smells of iron, coffee with the memory of soup and tea
worn out silver shiny stained crooked
did I say shiny?
scratched surface
ting ting ting,
tic tic toc
different pitch in different glasses
or when thrown in with others

lean and easy small to grip
light as a feather
fun to fiddle with
it will be to hot when drawn from
boiling water
feels like the ice-cream when dipped
in cold
BE CAREFUL! don’t lick when hot!

proud of scratches
it knows what it’s worth
famous like Uri Geller

traces, strings and untied laces

04-04-2015 //
(maybe) …it’s all about leaving traces,
footprints on new tracks
attaching strings, untying laces,
loosely strung over cracks
of things that broke before?
what else is left in store?
stronger, weaker, wiser, wasted
weather we miss or loose or gain
there’s no way we wake-up ended
always there’s another way
to just keep going, finding out
where it’s at and what about
we choose a path and find a wall
there’s our gateway to the ball
the ball of open endings
that somehow, looking back connect
because that’s what opens do in fact
they fill, the story can’t be left untold
it finds a way to have it’s say
settles not for come what may.
until what may has come
and has left it’s mark
as a spark for new beginnings
in a chosen some…
//