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Monday, October 19, 2015

Island

weird, i had something at the back of my mind, looking for it, it was the beautiful
King Crimson song and i couldn't remember!

Islands in the Sky


Island

of course there are
islands in the sky.
and  of course, we will die

i want my island
here , on earth,
for the time
we are given

maybe not an island
but a home
in the waste land

a wing of you
touching my sleep,
my worn face

a simple place
to be quiet
and warm

a breath of you
to ease my fear
and i know

more is not
to give or to take:
we need to walk

and to survive,
a washing machine,
maybe a nurse

but i want a garden
where i can grow peace
and flowers, strawberries


and salad of course.
all life was salad,
all thoughts are.

it is not the words
I can eat.
it is not ideas
I can drink.

it is not the past
when i say now.
It is not now
when you say past.

and then, you
will not live
by the sun alone
you need your hands


as i need mine.
they may rest
in each other
when the time is right.




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