Tag Archives: rhythm

sparkling

like a child
falling into a towering house of flimsy cards
i trip
into the rhythm of you.
each step:
a cautious forward stumble
into unknown, into benign,
the magic of your foreign eyes
sparkling.

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but we weren’t

we are intrepid dreamers
lost in the rhythm of this life.
we’ve lost belief,
but once we believed,
though never always,
and we could have been right.
but we weren’t.

———————————————————–

i thought i’d do something different and write a “sunday 160“. 
here’s to the future.
and to understanding.

82. once in a million words

to know fear is to have never tasted it, that bitter acrid taste of rotting apples mixed with strong perfume. there is no knowing, only inhalation and dizziness before the lights go on. then, fear subsides.
the aftertaste remains. cologne is rotting. rotting all the same.

and swallowing the cider bile i stop. and start. i stop and start. and i remember that this was rhythm beaten out for me and Y. aeons ago, i would have told him this was our rhythm, that it was made for us. really, the rhythm is mine alone.
it is the heartbeat of a rabbit caught running in circles, breaking out of a different hole every time. only i have no space of time and who knows if i’m late?
there is no knowing here, only white roses being painted red. but i need no paint, truth always comes out in the end.

and this fear reigns over love. it transcends the borders of us and reproduces in our creations. why is that, will you tell me?
it must be us, the charcoal darkening the paper.
it must be orange juice spilt on a linen cloth. or coffee. coffee on those tiles.

still, it’s so nice to be able taste fear once in a million words, wouldn’t you say?

within

my span of wings in trepidation,
resembles the beat of African drums
heard from below
on a warm afternoon:
mid-may or mid-summer, among a circle of people
whose very lives to mine,
no more than tangents to the exponent of y.
and beating wildly with the rhythm of life,
i long to keep on rising,
rinsing out of water like venom rinses out of blood
because, whatever the reason to this life,
within these veins runs music,
slipping gently in and out of life.

37. as if i was the princess and you were the pea

and we are one, your kisses – multitudes of words, your heart beating out the rhythm in the lagoon of poetry that is life. somehow no longer my life and your life, but our life; two rivers merging into one. who knows if and where they will split again?

and this happiness is odd, overpowering, ostentatious.
this happiness cares for noone and nothing. it surges through my arteries when you hold me close, crowning my cheeks with a rose-tinted glow, as if i was the princess and you were the pea, keeping me awake at night when all i wanted was a warm bed to rest in.

and i’ve grown romantic. through the lack of sleep or else, illness. got myself a little diary with pictures of Paris in it, just so i could mark the date of us, the real beginning, in it, next to la Tour Eiffel, or next to le Bon Marché or maybe even in the calendar slot where it should be – the 6th of april.
and i have. i put a cross there, in that empty white box, a little “x”. a flittering kiss, a mark of my love, whatever one may take it for.
and though you may never see it or hear of it, it will always be there.

it reassures me i that i learnt how to love again.
after X, after Y.

it never ends!

Y tengo un corazon

and nothing more
and nothing less 

and though sometimes it may be trying
to own so little yet so much
i see a heartbeat in the chrome of your touch,
that ultramarine sky –
the cobalt in the silent high
and treasure the rhythm of the swelling blue
echoing through the vena cava of you

Y me gusta escuchar tu voz

 and you can barely give me more
and you daren’t give me less 

and life’s a blur of voices in my head
english broken
unspoken
and all your accents
´ˆ¸` ¨¨ ˆ¸ ¨ˆ`¸ ¨
swirl atop my clouded head

 and there’s one thing i never said –
i punctuate my life with
ands –
that way the deep blue in me –and you–  never ends

it never ends!