rip

 

Now or later

While I am here

Or when I am gone

I’d like to see it

The other space

That is just behind it

I can sense it

I don’t believe it

But it’s there

And the time is approaching

I can feel it fraying

I have started picking up loose threads

Soon I will see the gap

And I will be free

 

space

 

 

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Fragments of the past collect in the corners of my mind

Glistening shards of broken Christmas decorations

fragile and lethal to tiny fingers

Soft and silky carpet of pine needles

in a fragrant forest long ago

Lapping water against a bobbing boat

hot sun spilling reflections like gems

Pages from myriad books

float and settle softly on the floor

A white cat whisker

caught in the weave of a shawl

scratches memories…

I scoop them gently

into a paper boat

and set it free on the wind of time

 

focus aout05

Art: Benoit Saito

 

 

 

Bells ring

Snow falls

Dogs on walks

Life goes on

Christmas here

And gone

Loneliness forever

 

mika-suutari

Art: Mika Suutari

 

I saw your face

It was a dream

It was real

I don’t know

I saw your face

You were here

I missed you

Until the next time

When we are both cats…

boy-with-a-cat-by-pierre-auguste-renoir

Art: Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Boy with a Cat

 

 

 

MOMENTOUS THINGS

MOMENTOUS

NOT TO EVER

BE FORGOTTEN

MOMENTOUS THINGS ARE UPON ME

CRUSHED

I LIVE

MOMENT BY MOMENT

om

Art: Sleeping Buddha

 

 

It is hiding in the corners

Lurking just out of sight

Weighing heavy on my chest

Invisible Succubus

Reality unchained

Raw

Merciless

Soul-less

By whose measure?

And why fear it?

….

john_henry_fuseli_-_the_nightmare

Art: John Henry Fuseli, The Nightmare, 1781

dsc00719

Bent

Unbroken

Folded into space

Captured by mortar

Death immortalized

Suspended

In time

Nature

Mummified

dsc00723

 

 

The shadow of a falling leaf

followed me on my walk today

I looked up to see an empty sky

Was it you?

shadowoftheperson

 

(…) the curtain billowed gently in and out, as if the room were breathing. Wind chimes, too heavy for the delicate breeze, hung silent amid the quiet movement. Swaying slowly, they avoided touching, over and over. Dusk and shadows laboured in unison to paint the dissipating landscape. With each flutter of the curtain, the light dimmed. She stood still, in the eye of an invisible storm.

 

From The Book of Unfinished Stories

Edward Hopper:Woman in the Sun

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art: Edward Hopper, Woman in the Sun, 1961

 

 

Silence

And a deeper silence

When the crickets

Hesitate

              –Leonard Cohen

 

ChelmonskiJozef_BabieLato

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art: Józef Chełmoński, Babie lato, 1875