Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Friday, October 29, 2010

My Colours

I wish I could swim
or even float as flotsam
in the colours of my life

not as grandeur ocean
or rolling, churning river
but as hurricane,
me, the all seeing eye

greens and burgundies
aqua and sunset
as up I carry
in a spiral trail of magic

i would float on my back
and perhaps, understand
the blend and finish
of my new colour

from there, up high
I could spin miracles
to the perfect twirl
and paint you happy

but i flounder and flail
in a hopeless kick
and broken stroke
while the mess rains heavy
as bent rusty nails

how they tried,
those that loved me
to soothe and gentle
in demonstrated ease

just a little kick, they smile
-easy strokes,
be one with the moment
you swim in

and I try
God help me, I do

but I sink as before
as the colours explode into shrapnel
obliterating the cascade
I dreamed of
when my youth
knew imagined success
through perfect