Tag Archives: Mornings

Night (darker, longer)

Dark hoto of the sky at night


Deep in the night

You’re living your life lonely

Strung out before the dawn

Standing in the lounge




Rush blended

On palette

Many shades of night

Exhausted by being awake

And self-consciously

More awake than ever necessary

Overcome by the nocturnal

But sleep is somewhere




Temporarily in common with




At an aggressive speed

I was losing my way

I was feeling so alive

Seeing what could never be

The atmosphere burned red

And so I thought of what will be

…from now on

I noticed then what I never see

Chrome slithering roads and bloodied sky

With all moistures weeping in blue

Rolling, cruising, endless

On and over flattening mountains

This is what I’m telling you

Those slow buildings in green

I’ve finally found out what I almost lost

And sensed what I had never seen

All around while dissolving out

Through and into the Firesky!




Untitled Morning

I awake from sensitive sleep. I’m out of tune to the bed-sheet; like magnet

against a magnet, not yet fully formed to be part of this new day.

My right hand is a cutout, a hole; in shape of a hand on the edge of


I attempt to grab for my duvet, but my hand sinks through it; as if softer.

Then, like warm sands engulfing cold, ancestral rock, my hand slowly returns to

me, as I watch it closely re-generate; appreciation of owner-ship is fulfilled,

and it proceeds to move by my own accord; to turn off the irritating alarm!

Psychedelic Leopard Spots

The fact that I have just seen a minuscule leopard; no bigger than my thumb; nonchalantly roaming between the taller blades of grass in my front garden was not as surprising as I would’ve first imagined.

Then I notice a tiny family of three; lying down not so far away from the minuscule leopard; the baby is twice the size of its assumed parents and the Leopard. Somehow I overlook this irregularity in scale and look away, determined to see what else that I can find that defeats logic. Inevitably, they all vanish before I look back on my search for absolute confirmation.

Feeling aggrieved, I sense that I’m being watched — but still I scan the garden; my mannerisms acquire some semblance of pretense loss, as all I see now is scattered autumnal leaves. Within a matter of moments I disregard the miniature marvels; I smile, subtly, as I come to the conclusion that I’m very temporarily insane.

I continue to walk to the gate and plan my route to work as usual.