colours of thought (inchoatus)

the fireworks of painting behind closed lids
in a single mind, where no-one forbids
this is where real art is
where one can do the biz

holding breath ‘til the sparks fly
and memorizing the reasons why
on canvas so the edges fade
and then the images are not betrayed

as lucid as a world of disbelief
is the spectrum of an unconscious thief
so the hues in this dream of nought
are the colours of one single thought

while the paint dries on a second’s term
reason will to impressions affirm

©2009 Hey Hey

Essence and Piss

Such a rarity, as might be bought by love,
where starlight now is truly history, thereof.
And entanglement, nature’s design for lovers,
who never should divide, as all above us,
is the very heart that binds the universal border
to the infinitesimal order.

Listen to the rise, that is the flow of life in
you, but only realized when senses begin
to diminish. For then comes the wonder
of the space between two parts. To separate, to ponder.
What is beyond the now and material?
Which of these, the thought, the touch, is the real?

Of the love essence and the this,
how to decide? Caress the lips of her, or to take a piss

©2009 Hey Hey

waves

the wow factor of waves
that even the strongest of hearts craves
washing away sand with the reddest sunset
but with it the greatest upset
for there might be nothing more
not even on a distant shore

the acknowledgement factor of waves
that on a human level behaves
like the signal emitted from all there is
yes, i am here, join in the quiz
is what you see what you get
but if you did see, would regret

the musical factor of waves
as a concentric circle so enslaves
taking to a heady height of thought
and there, so small to be almost nought
this is where waves reside
truly, madly, deeply, inside

©2009 Hey Hey

metamorphosis

given but opaque eyes
who will see
the metamorphosis
as the winter rain
here
washes clean
the bloodbath
of human endeavour
there

nonetheless
the tortured blind
still feel
each dawn
and through the screaming skies
hear
the exquisite songs
of creatures
passing

©2009 Hey Hey

Tuesday Coffee Time

As gloomy Mondays disappear like apparition mist
Morning of the next to wet the appetite of day
A nod to cheer the queue, no room for words
As words are all around
Overfilling cups, forgetting change
And these lips spill more than prose in flight

Tuesday coffee time is yours and theirs
Here is space to taste, to overhear, to tell
Open arms through windows
Who has the biggest smile
A table with its four, now eight
More to say, come and be, then gone

A passing beckon, stand here, no room to wait
Yet time to breathe, the pungent high
Of joy, or rush, of this , or that
Of nodding heads, and jingling coins to thank
A wink across the din
The hubbub that says ‘til the morrow

©2009 Hey Hey

unfinished ring

and from this mundane dawn
came such delight
as irony is to astonishment
then here is a band that is to perfection
without a term, without need

insipid formlessness
the shapelessness of lacklustre
gave rise to simplicity in propinquity
to corporal craft of insight
from the strength of one gentle mind

encircling such beauty as pure air
supports a soul in medium
this silver ingot was blessed to be
so secretly flawed, yet wish deity worn
magicians toil, remain an unfinished ring

©2009 Hey Hey

rise

as reads the story in each sunrise
touched by the waking
they see this gold
and the sleepers
while their dreams incubate
imagination in souls
preparing for the day

then the sun
a bridge between the horizon’s past
with the bluest future
provides the means to really know
the truth
to love the sensation of warmth
and feel warm love

©2009 Hey Hey

Coffee Shop Monday

Like falling stars, landing in perplexity
Perhaps from a better place, yet here
On a Monday, against the streaked rain
To brush tangled, wet hair from
Sullen eyes, or shake a drop
From the end of a red nose

Looking in, as though a best friend
Might raise an eyebrow
Or a prodigal comet would show its plume
In a grey world
Where vaporizing bodies with steaming coffees
Return a smug half-smile, eyes look down

Three vacant seats protected from all sin
The outside might bring
Inoculated by a tenant overlapping a chair
A croissant wider than a mouth
Tells a longer story than words
As Mondays come and go, you know

©2009 Hey Hey

real

a chill, as ice never was
you got to me god
no deity here
but the man who would be
as titles are, you are god
and may you stay
for you are contrition
the thought that never was
a star in a black dreamscape
a waking
awaking
awake
alive
human
humane
here
now
real

©2009 Hey Hey

yes, you

as the seconds tick towards a dream
in another mysterious night of you
aside the bliss of warmth and breath
the tears in sleep, shed
when you disappear from lucid time
but hope to materialize
in a fairy-tale
this night
not to take away
or diminish
the perfume fantasy that is a life of
yes, you

here comes the tale
to ease the troubles
calm the rem
can this be true
which is the real
by day or dark
a soothing hand caresses storms of mind
a wealth in, almost real, golden rays
a sun, where moon in isolation bore
the weight that love conferred
in this dream as light hours
yes, you

©2009 Hey Hey

rearranging

watch those words, in these times of visibility
might see through the lovely, smiling credibility
the meanings, they are a changin’
systems are rearranging
now is the time for the people power
here is the means for the ‘every hour’
when communication doesn’t have to end
contiguous messages could send
we have the means to say
why should we have to pay
for the mistakes of the representatives
however argumentative
make a stake in the future
join the human adventure
rearranging is not deranging
it’s encouraging
enthusing
inspiring
loving

©2009 Hey Hey

Good luck, Obama, one day we won’t need you

morad’s nectar

yet, is there a smile in those eyes
perhaps pleasure of meeting
a glimpse by who
in an secluded mind

where else to find
these treasures of expression
but human

in a perspective
of isolation
as if the real, the truth
were only seen through
the suffering of such existence

or might there be no world
where children dance in satiation
and neighbours talk the day away
from plentiful hearts

moreover, how could lips
kiss love
near a distant sunset
as the sun rises here
to a cold
and lonely
new day

©2009 Hey Hey


Horizon’s photograph of Morad
http://flickr.com/photos/horizon/1129719140/

melancholic miles

take life, o master of the house
peel the brown skin of sunshine days
now burned in so many ways

walk the melancholic miles
passing those memories, the piles
of smouldering bones to douse

with no sweetened pill
see the traits in captured souls
through transparent hearts, so quiet

an unrelenting quenching of stars
not matched by born intellect
to translocate or protect

here then is no circle to revere
nor deity to fear
but a mere accumulation of scars

for this is life as it will
having the fractures and holes
eating a godless diet

©2009 Hey Hey

regularity

… this heartbeat …
… to bind love’s elevated rhapsody
with notions of angels …
… flying
in waves
that caress the very gravity …
… pervading all there is …

… a rhythm …
…tying ethereal wonder
and revered minds
together …
… in a pulsating union
of imagination
with the truly surreal …

… the vibration …
… of living heavens
raised to consciousness …
… how thoughts from
quintessential orbitals
could reign …
… with such regularity …

©2009 Hey Hey

severe illusion

in an age of severe illusion i took a reality placebo
with the understanding that side-effects would be maximal
perhaps
after swallowing i possibly saw the truth
that although everything was different nothing had changed
in a dream i slept
awakening to see shadows in absolute darkness
and more frames than were movement
but a single photographs content
where there had been there was or was not
moonbeams fell to the moon
sandy shores lapped the ocean
blinking washed the world free of the world
for whole or part of the timelessness
that my forgotten watch would have shown
unintended consequences might have included
assuming the existence of anything
fearing existence
and an out-of-head mindache
but these soon disappeared with corporal landing
stepping up onto terra firma i knew the sojourn had just begun
no illusions reappeared
i was cured
and in isolation i realised the world was surely insane

©2009 Hey Hey

there is this

another night falls upon the mind of who
the he, the she, the soul … the you
and rain runs down the distant window
while a setting star leaves mindful mellow
those final rays of orange could
turn drops of sanguine into blood

but a single thought should heal grey to white
the past, the sleep, the dream … the night
if care leaves through the open window
then time might take it all, so sallow
and obscured in portraiture
of oily sand within a mirage future

when the reality passes, there is this
the feel, the hear, the see … the amiss
as tears run down the east window
a moon-cast opaque and dancing shadow
of a world appears where it already stood
and yet, this could have been so good

©2009 Hey Hey

the red of

poppies, the red of
summer lives
or winter dreams
who’s petals fall from
life, the edge of
all we have
or the cycle
where love turns
you, the truth of
looking out
or falling in
to space with time
eternity, the thoughts of
yore and gone
or this rising morn
that illuminates
poppies, the red of

©2009 Hey Hey