(1987)
Rain falls in fragments
of drilling drops
as wind gusts sweep
their rhythmic dance
on the roof
through a glass of melted rocks
my eye scorns the lack of depth
while my heart hurts
and the mind grows number and number
gradually, hoards of horses
with hooves smattering
in a steady beat
that creates upheaval and fear
on a cold patched quilt
of green autumn grass
I sleep dreamless sleep
still stirred though
my three eyes never rest
in a constant search
for a matching blend
of colours, vibrations, and past
they sweep the wide horizon
but cannot grasp its depth
standing close to a tree
grasping for green foliage
the aggressive storm
pulls my face
into a distorted grin of fear
the parachute is near
the parachute is clear
the sun always rises
but why never, ever, here
a tear slowly falls
when sad confusion
brings my mind
to the cramp of a closing tie
Poetry by Mikael Lövkvist
Read 663 times
Written on 2007-03-19 at 00:16
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The third eye
Rain falls in fragments
of drilling drops
as wind gusts sweep
their rhythmic dance
on the roof
through a glass of melted rocks
my eye scorns the lack of depth
while my heart hurts
and the mind grows number and number
gradually, hoards of horses
with hooves smattering
in a steady beat
that creates upheaval and fear
on a cold patched quilt
of green autumn grass
I sleep dreamless sleep
still stirred though
my three eyes never rest
in a constant search
for a matching blend
of colours, vibrations, and past
they sweep the wide horizon
but cannot grasp its depth
standing close to a tree
grasping for green foliage
the aggressive storm
pulls my face
into a distorted grin of fear
the parachute is near
the parachute is clear
the sun always rises
but why never, ever, here
a tear slowly falls
when sad confusion
brings my mind
to the cramp of a closing tie
Poetry by Mikael Lövkvist
Read 663 times
Written on 2007-03-19 at 00:16
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
nature |
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by Mikael Lövkvist Latest textsThe eye with no faceCry bird cry The question My hands The inner sun |
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