Tuesday, 12 October 2010

sleeping poet

on the phone with souls
stolen from the sent away
mastering the art of Volume
the poet is asleep, external silence
where she can become nothing
visiting death's cousin

time to awake and re-dedicate to now
to the infinite language that 
is spoken very well
good night, and thank you
good morning
good and bad

want what you do not want 
do not want what you want
want not, do you, what want
no desire
no suffering
connections of all
placid and peaceful
for the poet who is asleep
visiting death's cousin
everything becomes a blur

now, for focused times
infinite gratitude for opposites
forever sound endures

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