meine umwelt
avec moi, sans moi,
par moi
Ahh… and the tales I shall unfold
May blast comprehension if the truth be told
An ode to the masters, martyrs and whims
A satyr on life and sullied daydreams
(1996)
Divorce
The Light of Day
As the air passes
In putrid decay,
And the smile fades
With the light of day,
Then the phantoms leap
And the terrors play.
For the fragile dreams
You’ll ever reap
From the fearless chasms
Of the dark, dark deep
Will, with their splinters
And shards of shattered
Belief, pierce so deep,
Or as deep again.
The blood will pump
In full gushing throttle
But the fountain’s root
Is as mortal now as ever
And you’ll watch the
Masters’ graceful dance
And hear the full,
Throbbing chants
And drowsy honeydew
You’ll taste, as it
Drowns the bitter, bitter bile
While you retch and retch
And fade away,
Now, same as the light
Of day.
(12th Mar ‘96)
When next you walk
Along the waters edge
Gazing into the grey sea mist ahead;
Or when through a summer’s sylvan canopy
The shafts of light do penetrate
And make the woodland cover the soul’s adytum;
Or when from out of winter’s icy grip
A soft warm breeze, harbringer of spring
Does hold, caress and stroke thy mortal frame:
Think of me,
And the Love we shared
Before the storm clouds broke,
And you and I as flotsum wasted
Upon a nihilistic sea,
And the god of Chaos reigned
For I shall always remember you!
And ten thousand years from now
When you and I are but ancestral phantoms
We will walk as shadows, hand in hand,
Down those empty, resonating caverns of time.
Anon (‘96)
