MAI's blog

Under The Pretence

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Was it the blue tux he wore
Or the words with his wife, the night before

Or the cucumber salad he ate

Trying so hard to be his jolly old self

A spit and polished caricature



Delighting In The dream... As The Dream

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I had no idea I was already dead meat

A moth to the flame
Courting death

Longing achingly
For my own emptiness

Wings fluttering, delicately
To the beat of heart songs



The Whisting Wind... A Dancing Flute

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The whistling wind

A dancing flute

Oh how these songs have sung me

Spinning themselves

Into a dance and tune

Together alone

Romancing the swoon

Empty of even emptiness



The Agony And The Ecstasy

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It is screamingly obvious

Even if I wanted to I couldn't ignore it

It never leaves

And no succour is sought in hideouts



Love Light

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The shadows danced in the gutters of the sidewalk

And got scrambled into thorns and brambles
And tried crossing the railway tracks

But the train rolled into the station



Catch A Falling Star

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And I can smell the ash
Its not separate from me

It is its own fragrance
With no additives from an exotic perfumery

Its fragrance wafting away
Gently on a breeze



"Other Worldly"

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You know it's not uncommon to get the feeling that somehow the "other worldly"...i.e. the "spiritual" in common parlance holds the answers to all ones "worldly" questions and problems



A Flower In The Burning Flame

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She was kind and considerate... tuned into the greater good

And the songs sung lilting tunes
Singing themselves

They flow as they flow
Melting away
Slip-sliding into the ethers



A Sage

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Most think it's like being a woo-woo kind of thing...and get a warped impression of what a sage is

Projections !

Even in the stories of this and that



When Have I Not Loved Her

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When have I not known her
She is love itself

And love looked into its own eyes
And the I's disappeared....
Slip sliding away
Into its own embrace