Inside the image that lay.
It was a basic photo, I saw,
The fair essence of a youthful fellow:
Then I felt a feeling of stunningness:
Trouble mixing with my euphoria!
I was right here, at 23
The elegant picture, a young fellow
With delicate and wavy reddish hair
New youthful 셔츠룸 muscles, jaw and temple!
Clear and straightforward were things,
That my internal soul developed;
The white cloak of effortlessness:
Maybe some other time.
Presently, an elderly person at 64
With grabbing eyes, overcast psyche
That thin room of youth abandoned:
Glowing excellence currently disappeared!
As though enveloping in one evening:
Wild and dull and brilliant dreams,
Maturing inside that old photo:
We procure as we have planted!
Hence, the spirit presently endlessly pauses
For the day he’ll disappear
However the image actually remains:
Some time ago, he was 23.
#3339 (4-2-2012)
Haiku for Iceland
In 1999, the ninth of
September, at 9:00 a.m.! I was flying
to Iceland, that is:
9-9-1999 at 9:00 a.m.!
#3340 (4-2-2012)
The Drinking Room
(The Poem)
Here men are patched
It lives in a basic kitchen,
Level green walls, with a white sky
What’s more, a light emission, for the sun
(put in the focal point of the roof)!
Here you can turn into a cured stone.
The stones of the brain, serene…
The heart stone calm, moved by
nothing.
Just to take care of the mouth-opening with
channeled in liquor.
Here individuals of the local beverage
Such in vim’s of murkiness
Wipe kissing the phallic glass
containers of lager.
One stone eye closes, leaving the
Other to observe equivalence:
A large number of days after day…
A current unsettles the wires in your mind
Volts upon volts zapping the middle!
This is the drinking room,
That snares the hands and psyches of
the dead, or biting the dust?
Love is in the thirst and revile, the tingle!
Furthermore, we as a whole get naturally suspecting:
“I’ll quit drinking!
I’ll be all around great…
Tomorrow!”
Yet, few at any point do,
They simply change rooms.
Note: it took me 22 years until I quit drinking; I recently continued to change rooms, presently I have thirty years of temperance.
#3337 (4-1-2012)
Cinders
There are cinders on the moon, I bet:
left over from the people of old!
There are cinders on Earth, moving
in the breeze, I’ve seen this.
There are cinders on Mars, red like
-torpid fire…here and there
All over the place: I’ve seen photos!
There are cinders on Mercury, hot
what’s more, burnt…there must be (?)
Sometime in the future, assuming that you investigate my
casket, you’ll find remains as well!
Remains have a long history with
humankind, individuals, the universe.
The sun, one day will detonate,
be sucked into nothingness;
Or on the other hand maybe a dark opening
Leaving just cinders and dead gases!
Then, at that point, what?
We’ll all begin once more, from Ashes?