Friday, January 27, 2012

Keep the night going

They keep the night going.
The earth turning.
They, the scarecrows of the dark:
The long dead and forgotten.

The bustle that I hear
is beyond the reach
of the enveloping night's screech.
An invisible plow
keeps the furrows intact.
Wells condense the winter
down their throats.
A potter's wheel turns itself.
And the blacksmith's fire
is alight with care.
Chatter fills the streets.
Leaves take shape and fall
Become tomorrow's waste.
A distant traveler's eyes rest
at the sight of civilization.
A general bonhomie
of a parallel universe persists.

Meanwhile, the deathbeds
left behind at home transform
into working desks of fertility.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Some stay

Some memories always stay
the same extent of yesterday.
But they grow deeper today
Pull me in from the quay.

In threads of dark streams
a river runs in my dreams.
Taking with it the memory-tombs
while the Present hurriedly combs.