The way it goes

Forever
is but a blink of the eye
Together
until the day we die
You’ll never
forget these words we shared
Best ever
until the next best serves

You may think I’m a cynical fool
You don’t hear my dithyrambic drool
In the end, all my memories fade away
At my door, another stranger comes to stay

Yes, that’s the way it goes
Yes, that’s the way I chose

We may dream that we’re bound to find the one
We may recognize signs in each and everyone
Glance around and you’re sure to catch her eye
Dither long and she’s poised to pass you by

No, that’s not superstition
It’s just my own admission

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2013 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 290 times in 2013. If it were a cable car, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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speaking without tongues

she asked me if I was happy
since there wasn’t a response worth uttering I honoured the masculine tradition
I’ll take that as a no then
to say communication failed would be a slur on body language
you find your own answers in this life
or else you are forced to borrow them

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the new lovers

you sigh,
I smile,
what you can’t see doesn’t exist,
all outside is an undercurrent of disturbance,
we shall not let it invade our lascivious hinterland..

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The eternal mariner

images
they say no man is an island, hence I navigate a simple vessel, observe the rhythm of the sea, the cadence of the tide and the circadian philosophy of the natural order.. there have been doldrums as there have been friendly natives offering respite within their safe havens.. yet still I sail on carrying my cargo of desiderata safely stowed below..

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the prince and the ice maiden

lunch 001

We twist and turn along the spiral staircase, me and my car

as I follow the cream cheese moon down into Tarare

Upon high he sits with grand authority, seemingly secure

This winter’s night is not the occasion to engage his allure

 

Our winterland of cold illusion, sharp and still

as I push wide open the shutters from the window sill

Here today and gone tomorrow jests this ghostly threat

Deadly be the caress of the ice maiden, lest we forget

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Lupercalia

lupercalia

Her name was Lupercalia
she was our valentine of sorts
airbrushed from history by an ancient sensor
yet her kiss defies the ages
and the blood red mystique of the modern sages

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