instrumental wash up

Musician in the Rain by Robert Doisneau 

I will not play for a few trinkets
you may pull your cap and turn your back
I will not curl my toes
and bend backwards for a few coins

I carry that umbrella to lift up my spirits
yet my instrument nests under it
how can I neglect the fact that
I can still conjure up a few tricks

"that deep sigh-
what does it convey?
some arrested thoughts in the midst of nothing"

imperfect getaway

La Jument, off the coast of Brittany, photograph by Jean Guichard

in the dead water
I see a calm 
one need not worry about the impact of the storm

when the moon illuminates scenes of havoc
my words haunt me in my pool of thoughts
I wish to be remote

but it is just a random moment
one of those which recedes with water
I need to collect it and price it

I do not wish for scenes to litter my marked area
the green blue ocean may differ with me
now that it is topped with foam

"when your lifeless body finally washes ashore,
I would have gone into hiding"

a few stones removed now and there

New York at Night, Vivienne Gucwa

in the cobbled pathway
shadows whisper to me
about your presence
I can't see you in the scarlet night
nor do I see in the day light
but when the sky walks behind me
I feel your caress
a light warm touch of something unknown

spare me a bit, save my sanity
I expect you to come soon
It might seem strange to some
that I await for you
unknown unseen 
to be struck by you

an unlikely pair
one flesh and blood
other no one knows what
there is always a first, isn't there?

"uneven gait is sometimes the destiny
and it is also the periphery vision"

iced desires

The Ice Cutters, 1911, Natalia Goncharova

give us a pair of ice cutters
we will fix and pave a way
we are sure an angel will come from the moon

the snow cover on the trees waves at us
we do not believe in lies
angel cannot snatch away our dreams

we need a clay box to store the ice
it will be used to preserve our simple desires
those have fallen apart by the road side

"that sled carries the weight of our aspirations 
while our brother watches detachedly"

a letter for you

I can handle border issues
you think I depend on you
unknowingly you depend on me
my insight did not warn me of this plight
this fire within me forces me to confront you head on
but you are on the road again
what crisis drives you away trouncing everything in its wake

my wings will help me fly away
but what about my promises I made to you?
words may have died between us for now
but you know I will stick around as always
I sense that you are lost now
and you know I will find you
as I have always done and always will
thanks to the world beyond

"what I and you have does not have a name
it does not have to
who wants to learn a new spelling inventing a new word?"

let him grab the world

Autumn on the River, 1889, John Singer Sargent 

there is no blackboard
however he writes on the blackened wall
suffering is his undoing to open up
he wants to escape the cycle
he wishes to disappear from that gathering
it might lessen the gap between him 
and his choice to create nothing
the long habits of his brothers compels him to stay
but he wants to give up his own habit
it is not a virtue for him to enforce suffering on oneself

"what would regard do, if one has no desire to go on?
flights of fancy will only take as afar, not just ascetism
one might just choose to float away like her
with no destination in sight neither in mind nor heart"

bridging the past with the future

befuddled she lay there
pain was only a breath away
it was a race to live
his silky voice kept holding her
if not for him
she would have fallen into that marsh
her mouth all cottony
she felt him pour the whiskey on her broken leg
some part of her mind was razor sharp
his lanky form hovered near her
willing her to live
wiling her to live
before he slipped into murky water below
not to be found

ten years later she sits transfixed,
her glass dropping from her hand,
a small puddle forming on her side-
reminds her of her fuddled experience
she keeps staring at that letter remembering,
thinking, "no one can isolate me now.
he has found me again. saved my life yet again."

"et cetera is not life. it is what she is now."