the waiting

the waiting turns phones into dirt, or smears
the loneliness of no words, but hears
every empty night and the singing stars
who lean, sipping gins in hectic bars
and they fall, not caught by sympathy
not seen by empathy
just the passing eyes in rain lines while they choke
why would they assume such a joke
does the misty air condense
evidence for complacency and pretence
or might the spinning stop
the jaw drop
the waiting end
dear friend

©2008 Hey Hey

opaque sky

while ivory moonbeams fall from this opaque and telling sky
such glowing lunar tears to will passed times goodbye
still sparkle gracefully, as should a world of fresh mornings
raised by dew on webs of fine black hair drawings

for this ever, where a hidden star recites the myth
perpetuating days, through a pendulum acolyth
can be but fraction of the wonder that is all cause
as infinite hides eternal when a breath does pause

and so, another glance to find illumination source
now beyond the reaching night, or inspiration’s course
yet, this is the nature of a place in eyes of the divine
to take a role, however small, in a theatre of design

when comes farewell to wandering truth, perhaps sincere
then gone is sleep, and all but dreams will disappear

©2008 Hey Hey

tender trap

this tender trap, to glance within for moonbeams
hides more than hearts can bear, more than it seems
as though peaceful here and eyes might merely sparkle
yet contrived amiss, a moon and earth debacle
reflecting as it will the nature of a glorious sky
wherein the welcome hand turns oft to wave goodbye
for the static picture is a riot, friends who kiss
but when the back is turned can only reminisce
forlorn, the now and then, they never were to see
illusions, synthesized with futures that can never be
perhaps the preference is to skip the light
fandango, linking arms whilst passing into night
or just maybe could awaken, a revelation
to realize that all of this should be life’s inspiration

©2008 Hey Hey