goodold

we got here because we got lost

in the dream of this morning, alone, the two of us young, vibrant and free, making love in front of the window, unconscious of this public act, agile and tied, me and her in us both, we much more than the two of us.

in an instant of sensual carelessness i opened my eyes to time and space, to the shock of our exposed nudity, and to the sight of the opposite window: old and lovely, we danced, the two of us, trembling and fragile, in a slow, long, delicate bond.

 

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gold to cold

don’t fuss yourself with time
it goes fast, without pain
this constant loss of speed is age
that makes us weak and long for more
than we can hold or long for

sometimes it’s best to let go
forget the past, the future – what you’ve been
wished, will – nothing’s to come
the shore, the sun, the jamaican rum
your rest at the beach is but a dream

and as you succumb to the great power
of magnetic and gravitational events
(and yes, they are various and fickle)
try your best not to draw too many eyes
they’re all gods, and like yourself
liable to sudden erratic changes

 

 

however love’s addiction
the power’s still mine,
here’s my message:

i’m your wrong ship
my nonsense is yours
be kind as sign in
on shifting sands
for the rest – come on!
while we are
still we add
this is our luxury!
some have none
subtractions hurt
joints and actions

let’s go! do not panic
my lovely chip
maybe, just maybe
perhaps, not one
not any
alone

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basically god

science is my chosen religion because it’s curious, associative, flexible, great in its knowledge and wisdom, deep as the universe extends and spirals.
it’s inside of me and all around my being, tells me my history and future, it’s there even when i don’t care.
makes mistakes, says sorry but there might be other solutions for problems i didn’t know they were there&problems.
science searches for the answer and the truth and the word and life, and it’ll try and save me or kill me, depending on its human brain.

 

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exercise on the lexicon of existence

where is I?
bound and tied by facts and lies
in the present tense, being here before the mind
notwithstanding absent while currently existing
(at this very time, albeit i doubt in real life)
whereas I’m here –
where is I?

and since things are how things are
and as long as I am I (in spite
of obsolete) because it is like it is
(substance and matter amiss)
and because I think therefore exist –
where’s I to find?

and considering the core of water and thought
and the eye where i recreate myself as god –
am I?

 

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not even my own private gods

i don’t really know why
my love for johnny has died
and i’m game again – i dare

i’ll just need a hand or three
pack it for present, for free
with all the blood you can spare

i don’t really know why
my love for tony has died
no one’s irreplaceable