all written in Amsterdam and London 1975 - 1976
away from the flowers
at the market
and looked into her eyes.
I am too drunk, she said
and went away.
Rumours of wild energy
pushed its way
across a dusky sky.
There is a message
in the tar black canal,
a pulsating message,
a reflecting star.
I the morning there was
a thin layer of ice
crowning the canal's head.
***
I know
the greatness
and the magnificent
silence
of dreams. They
are the real part
of me
of you, of our love.
I know
sometimes I am
at the end
of a
kite's string
pulling
without knowing.
***
Come my love, I feel
I can carry you high
on a smile of understanding
on wings in a light
that will shine
when we wish it to.
Come my love, drop
your weary circles and
your aching dream life aching
and let us unite
in the living resource
of the Earth.
***
Flames of a child
burning on the edge
of a brand new city dream.
Snowflakes of memory
fell on streets
of a tormented Christmas.
In the broken shadow
of a dying moon
he lay naked.
The music of the light
touched his face
with beer and small talk.
Call me, he said
to the moon.
Make me a child again.
There were flames
leaping across the street,
through the winter park.
It hurts to see
in the squalor of sleep,
waking up is always hard.
***
Flower breathe on me.
I want that.
To touch the essence
of your petal life
is my desire.
Call me near.
Light a candle
at the side of the road
and I will stay
awhile.
Flower take me.
I am weary of travelling
and need no more dust
gathered from
the only one roads.
Flower breath on me.
I want that.
Poetry by Bob
Read 582 times
Written on 2015-04-23 at 00:02
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five more
Carefully I turned her faceaway from the flowers
at the market
and looked into her eyes.
I am too drunk, she said
and went away.
Rumours of wild energy
pushed its way
across a dusky sky.
There is a message
in the tar black canal,
a pulsating message,
a reflecting star.
I the morning there was
a thin layer of ice
crowning the canal's head.
***
I know
the greatness
and the magnificent
silence
of dreams. They
are the real part
of me
of you, of our love.
I know
sometimes I am
at the end
of a
kite's string
pulling
without knowing.
***
Come my love, I feel
I can carry you high
on a smile of understanding
on wings in a light
that will shine
when we wish it to.
Come my love, drop
your weary circles and
your aching dream life aching
and let us unite
in the living resource
of the Earth.
***
Flames of a child
burning on the edge
of a brand new city dream.
Snowflakes of memory
fell on streets
of a tormented Christmas.
In the broken shadow
of a dying moon
he lay naked.
The music of the light
touched his face
with beer and small talk.
Call me, he said
to the moon.
Make me a child again.
There were flames
leaping across the street,
through the winter park.
It hurts to see
in the squalor of sleep,
waking up is always hard.
***
Flower breathe on me.
I want that.
To touch the essence
of your petal life
is my desire.
Call me near.
Light a candle
at the side of the road
and I will stay
awhile.
Flower take me.
I am weary of travelling
and need no more dust
gathered from
the only one roads.
Flower breath on me.
I want that.
Poetry by Bob
Read 582 times
Written on 2015-04-23 at 00:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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