don't you ever get tired of habit?
i always wanted to be a ballet dancer.
For more pics of this beautiful archipelago *click* above.
in preparation for the trip, during the Shakespeare in the Park performance of 'As You Like It'
i dove into the night sky, with [Reflections of a Newspaper Junkie]
Traurig [an introduction to Maltese] Sweet the Bitter Aegis - Dagger, my Heart.
29 October 2000. Lija. evening.
26 March 2001, San Maison Ferry ride.
On an Evening at Derek's in Sliema. 02 April 2001
ode to a professor. 04 april 2001, valletta - on the curb.
the bleaching of limestone [and in short i was afraid]
ode to ancient existence where their Maltese handicapped man sunken in throat line of coin change pearl of limestone rowing teeth "Das ist traurig" and I'll expound; Vogue? girls still young flaunting to try to be seen to be the next Parisian scene I Like Sexy Girls says the musky eye of the bus driver This is dirty .. so I continue; Poke me here Draw on me here I cannot seek the art inside so I'm painting on my skin -- there is no more within Dark alleys speak to this, the beer glass rattling always rattles on... Rock it out thrash the symbols of eternity blissful bask and roll into the steel drums and oh the axes no longer held by priestly sweating knights of protection, fighting now the singers cut down all the fossil fuels of our hearts' outside This is loud and everywhere, so I'll go forward; Push, wait, shove, late -- When? Now -- I want, want I want a husband of old age -- to last till death at a hundred, but I also want what's best inside me Your wants of willing jovial conclusions most periwinkle -- the twilight of all a-loneliness and yet This is beautiful -- singing isle I'm here, with You
Emerging from my room as a tree flips out of the whirling tornado I'm all worn out by the music of silence inside canons booming terrible fright to celebrate in the warmth of night Jesus, Mary, and the Chinese accomplishment of fireworks crafting something though you've already seen hoping for perfection to seize all my errors never wanting more joy than for your heart to keep on going, keep on dreaming, keep longing for all, that you - whom you've, longed for i want to hold you when you cry, tonight.
This is Poseidon's household -- Odysseus' Ocean of dividing Further east, it was the maternity ward: delivering up to Olympia the goddess of love Surprising there aren't diamond cutter - merchants to deal in excavating this 'water.' the patches of turquoise are rare but to be minded yielding to a cerulean atmosphere which must be where the fish all live because from day to midnight the bulk of this -- Malta's Mediterranean -- is bright, groaning deep obsidian with naturally appearing - magically brought by the wind - quartz crystal, representing the ebb.
but you're on fire no it's just Lime. tequila, vodka, and -- he is speaking of time there is no flame anyway peace to the dark soul which is that child in a plastic smock thinning out play-doh seeming substance maybe some potatoes in shapes shrill salt tankering liqueur for Tom's tongue baby's in rank, peanuts crunch punch all over the floor can we have some more oh yeah, hell yeah, you'll getcha some more" goin craze with the bills they're scrape payin' to the nines and not a penny more Is This What It Was? no way, babe you choke me : what a laugh echo in medieval pew. blue. dew honey?. fever-few. Glu-ue? I see You. whom relevance? soul skin c'lipses in freezin' cold ocean bath sponsor simple - take the heat off Sun's weighty spares - arms, raying flight out where? in India, cooked up as Dahl What is the race about then? Quince impressing Heav'nly Court with room for one more silvey-gilded Chair - unter a Natchez bottle tree Since Reconstruction the Bower scatter O Hammer me Hanging into dally dwindling sweet figure 8. never too late
low flying pigeon twinkled by my ear of an eve and noting stone designs in
Republic Street that have been there all along I begin to doubt myself -- that
my dreams of the Southeast Pearl are far too misplaced, selfish --
that you would have doubts too, or at least underlying suspicions, at really giving me
your help, guidance, friendship
Peace -- I say it softly in that murmuring tone only needing myself to hear - MySelf/
to overhear...slits never in your eyes at rest -- tableaux to trust, it's that knowing smile --
Ahh yes, to travel and to explore the observation of thought,
to treasure simply a cafe au lait even in America.
for life to be as graceful as sharing a meal -- your recipe for health: to seek to BE.
understanding. (of yourself. all others & the way things work) untired of human research
- or is it the past? No questions asked. Thank you.
and what was it I just observed (now, newly appreciated a German woman with a toddling child (beauty breathing, alive Aryan and It must have made me smile yes I'm sure, the kid, a smile oh you, now that you know of all my unseemly, untidy views yet you'd remain - even today (wondering when I'd ever grew the Coke machine, it worked today and so things come full circle despite the gasping wont of Bereford my cherry flavored synapse coming to ease I've got 'em rolled chief, say there Johnny, I'm rollin', got 'em stuffed and bagged and aching wrists say I've got 'em rolled, now throw 'em no water to parch my asthma's need for the bar's not open - no whisky either I shall suppose oh how Lucija wailed it wasn't the British who've failed it wasn't just the British who it wasn't just the English that failed Jesus and I were in the jail Jesus and I were you know I'm not picky I may not be thin, necessarily to be pretty try not to be tricky, though I know I'm a mess I Wish For Love And Nothing More I Wish For Love. studying at night, walking by the SUN oftener so many coffees turn my mind to fabric softener I'm sorry for what I can't, nevermind, "what?" you say -- apologize for the past, that is. for it is what it was all over Paris, by the by I cannot, ever, bring myself to lie with whom said she? never him said I and all the while, merrily, nor bye the bye I pass the time, weaving broken for what I've let myself become a neurotic critic, not too much a cynic a dreamer of storylines art galleries and stolen storylines but wasn't Homer a figment anyway ? The ship sinks, could I e'en daresay? none of my friends, scholars all (every one wil believe this is me I Wish For Love And Nothing More I Wish For only one, no strike that - 2 if one is to count my real Beloved and yet, with my Betas never connecting now in all this spiteful reflecting somewhere in my body - or is it merely my mind collecting Tears. and eventually, that soul of me which shall form one day (hopefully at night though - what am I saying, thinking dictating some sort of behavior, some truth of a Lover, and yet I cannot explain) half at least of, A Baby. I Wish for Love And Nothing I Wish For Love the sexy dark married worker at the P.O. in Balzan called me Grace (an omen perhaps? a good one of course) but no I'm not Maltese I'm just another face (I Wish For Love & Nothing I) I'm just another face
© 1999-2000 Night Lilley, a division of *.bmp productions;
Please contact rainyday@thevioletburning.net
for information pertaining, and permission regarding these poems.[CONTENT]
LinkExchange Member | Free Home Pages at GeoCities |