Through what passes the traveling soul,
and what through it on its way?
Tag Archives: poetry
Who will speak?
I need a clear voice
like a stream
to carry me
Coming unglued
And what is this glue,
and do we want more
if it gives as it does?
Time snuggles up to the oblivious
Sticking ticking seconds in our craw
Not what you’d call ambition
I’d like to be old and whittled smooth,
gentleness itself
My heart will be
A bell of the Holy Ghost!
Me and you or maybe just you
You make me, move me,
dwell in me, and beckon.
What without you
do I do at all?
How we get to this particular place
Dead letters, those gods,
rise to climb the sky of the mind.
They screw on stars to make words
and leave us to raise their babies.
Love
Love
is an
exercise in failure
through which
glory shines
To you who’ve long since stopped wondering
I never got anywhere because I
never drove it home. I just stuck a
forlorn thumb in the wind.
Utrecht Journal 