vintage ballooning

I fly over vegetation with the crows circling
who wove a tale that has lasted for eons?
I see scarce light on the ground
no one has the strength to see the eroded soil
last time I was there I could foresee rain
falling on the rooted cells of unknown plants
change has been less in reality
but mind has revisited it numerous times.
balloons may carry me away
but I will end up eroded on the ground

"no one can escape the inevitable end
non living objects are no different from living ones"

when the core rots, soul will disintegrate

painting by Andrew Wyeth 

a longing you cannot see
time to time it returns
driven by a lone tear
no one ever threw that key
a slate never wiped clean
behind that mesh
you become a stranger
no one can repair that tear
there is no room for despair
you may think the night will make me swoon
but I will wander no further before I return 
it is time to pick out the invisible nails
before I let my heart disintegrate

"a bloody path seems to be only way out
from a long journey of lies and deceits"

in the shadows, let it be

photo by Agustin Berrocal 

you can leave now
it was a mistake to invite you
I need to rest the cause
my conscience is clear
we can never be friends
our communicate does not translate into that
not even for a second, I want to be with you
nothing will come out of it if we get together
this is no lab
I will not write a note

"the wrinkles on the potato skin
cannot detect the sick relationship
why are you trying to find bones, then?"

half a moon

Supermoon 2013, Julio Cortez, AP 

after climbing that summit
it is impossible to descend
but the voices are asking me to risk it
I might give in to pressure
nothing happens without any smoke
I do not  scare easily from the demons within my head
even if my belly heaves with tension

"I will carry that torch for you
many Supermoons may come and go"

A Solitary Reaper Retold

I toil in the meadow
a solitary figure
in that lane
I walk miles
not fearing the wild bear
which comes from that other side of bridge
what it is looking for I wouldn't know
that bear is as lonely as I am
I may seem fragile and unstable
but I have enough insight to survive
I will rest on a rock for a while
before I retreat to my island of peace
that bend you see is what I am seeking
in no time I will fly away like fallen bird
he knows his place is the sky

"the clouds will touch my feet in no time
persuading me to go with them"

hubris

Stanley Kubrick for Look Magazine, 1949 

complex edge takes me away from the beaten tracks
we have become still pictures in this forest of feelings
my lie has grown so pale
answers are not needed now
you will throw the files
I will light that gas with this lighter
burning all the invisible mess

"still I need a class or two to unlearn you
but in the vintage mode"

escaping from banality

The Promenade, 1918, by Marc Chagall 

don't you dare giggle
she is not flying
it is just a crazy illusion
her chattering teeth shatters the silence
I will scoop some moonshine
that will wake her up
she escaped from her home
a cave of a home
such a banal life
she thinks she cut all ties
just a wrinkle you see here
all will be normal
I will do anything to make her stay

"she will make banana splits
that will be our meal for supper"

universe will not hand it over to you

you need to escape from your solitude

let your shimmering emotions spill into the curb

let your steps direct you towards the yard

watch the thundering jets

the spewing hatred within yourself

needs to be dashed to the ground

let the rain wash it away

changing your status and stature

you can go and rest on that park bench

watch that door being knocked

you have to grab your due from the universe

no one else will be there for you 

"the patterns are not you yet you are the pattern
goodbye is so final but the universe decides for you"

dance of life

Waking, Walking, Singing, in the Next Dimension? 1979 by Morris Graves 

each one of us swirl with the wind-
limbs move with nimble grace.
in the train of thoughts;
no myth can exist in the prairie-
you see a vault
but for us it is a space that never ends.
your throat may choke with emotional rapture of our beauteous dance,
we may crave for a trick 
that will takes us to halls of fame.

"in the spirals of life, these is no beginning, nor is there an end"

gravity rolls around defying physics

Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth 

in the bleak darkness dandelions seem so nebulous
the clouds hover to take away the light
such a vision for someone who is watching from up above

opaque sun is blazing over that mindless thought
lighthouse is not cut out for cheery vegetation
such a perfect timing for the ship to approach

particles hover only to crush the spirit
torch is useless to dig out the weeds underneath the slab
why do I waste my breath over it all?

random flow of the matter within the mind
may not be popular with the crowd
but the lined cloud's moves make it up for a wonderful visual

"open the windows, let the gravity move in"