Painted Life


on a long hot
summer of the 90’s
facing the sea over the Pacific
underneath the big ancient
canopy that stretched its twigs to a
deathly pale finger
a kingfisher
stretched it’s wing
down the burnt
exposed dead coral
just the rumble of the far crest of
white foamy gust
shutters upward
I am there sitting silently
in a protruding land pile
all alone
wishing I had a cup of tea
on my palm while I enjoyed
the serene song of gail wind of May
that rhyme with the kettle
snoozing at the cold kitchen
but whom he can stop the clock from ticking
nor hush the raven that visit
unexpectedly at night
life crawl even if you want
to stay a quite while
light were eyes bathe
from that youth filled dream
turned to
ashen memories
of cerebral macabre
like a rusty can that roll and roll
at the lips of the sea
not long ago
till now
like Trojan war
echoing immortality
the bird marred the carcass
of the skeleton
oozed on mud mimicry
the banshee shriek
screeching on the dark wood
skeetering like mouse
that lost in the hole
beside the unclosed old diary
now tell me
life is always all alone
I’m sure of it
you came in this world
and gone in the grave
all alone
a soft creaked
the door hinge ajar
the silhouette of a curios
man sat there
envying the final
sweet sigh of Van Gogh
hugging the one shot
that shocks the whole world
in awe


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