O

of the sun. One more night

changes the window view,

wiping it out of sight.

I’m not sure I’m you

anymore. Heavy rain

seems lighter than heavy wind.

You look at the window pane,

wondering who will win

the fight between night and day

if you can find a way…

…to try to start anew and maybe make some sense out of what you knew when you had your first chance to see the shooting scars on the face of the night sky. You stare at the stars somewhere out of sight. The TV set of your mind is heard inside your head, making you push the rewind button on the half-mad recorder of your memory. You try to put it on pause where you once were me, though I’m not sure I was there at all. Just play it back for me one more time. Begin with the day before the night before there was nothing on your mind except that fear swallowing you at dawn somewhere around here. Only GOD knows when this World may be gone. HE is THE ONE WHO can end It or let It go on. Pictures on window panes are painted with rainy days’ watercolors. It rains in the vanishing rays of the sun. One more night changes the window view, wiping it out of sight. I’m not sure I’m you anymore. Heavy rain seems lighter than heavy wind. You look at the window pane, wondering who will win the fight between night and day if you can find a way…

July 2007

(ALMOST THE SAME)

…Home to GOD. As the dust

settles, some tear gas

gets in your eyes. The past

is in a looking glass

of water squeezed from a rain-

coat on a washing line.

The sky seems to remain

almost the same, looking like

an upside-down sea

or an enormous wall

on which you often see

the sun set. Shadows fall,

followed by one more night

wearing mourning-black

until the morning light.

Everything must come back…

…Home to GOD. As the dust settles, some tear gas gets in your eyes. The past is in a looking glass of water squeezed from a raincoat on a washing line. The sky seems to remain almost the same, looking like an upside-down sea or an enormous wall on which you often see the sun set. Shadows fall, followed by one more night wearing mourning-black until the morning light. Everything must come back…

August 2007

(WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY)

…to any looking glass

with a couple of eyes

scanning a tear gas

chamber. There someone cries

about a place in time

only GOD can return

one to in their prime

if they can truly earn

it. You hide in a rain-

coat on a cold, black night,

catching another train

of thoughts you want to write

down on a paper sheet.

It can feel like a leaf

from a tree on a street

you can barely leave

by just walking away

from what you want to say…

…to any looking glass with a couple of eyes scanning a tear gas chamber. There someone cries about a place in time only GOD can return one to in their prime if they can truly earn it. You hide in a raincoat on a cold, black night, catching another train of thoughts you want to write down on a paper sheet. It can feel like a leaf from a tree on a street you can barely leave by just walking away from what you want to say…

September 2007

(THROUGH THE MORNING MIST)

…what looks like another lot

of waves licking the coast-

line when a weird thought

goes through your mind like a ghost