"go and catch a falling star"

"Go and catch a falling star"

Sht, it's hot
my hand fell off
I can catch
but cannot keep

1,2 and 3
it stings as a bee
4,5, 6 and 8
I can't walk straight

I show you where it is
a cold black stone
down in the lake
always awake

they said
go and catch the falling star
now I'm drunk
it is dark and it is sad

take my hand out of the ice
show me my fingers
and take us to the star
maybe it is an avatar

deep in the forest
behind so many trees
and i wonder if it sees
how much my mind
still misses my hand

maybe it is not nice
but if it has the power
it will heal my arm and hand
with its weird and magic wand

if not i will remain
a cripple, sometimes weak
and often and vain
and i just may sin and grin
now and again

comment:
references
1)"go and catch a falling star" (John Donne)
2)meteorite, Tscheljabinsk
3) what is the purpose of my life

“Could be a love poem about somebody’s eyes, but.”

“Could be a love poem about somebody’s eyes,

but.”

The stars talk to me

through your eyes.

the planets turn

and the nights sing

I smell the sea

through your eyes,

the cries of seagulls

Your eyes are so very clear ,

a secret lake in moonlight

silvery with fishes

leaping out of the light

It is not true

I am not blind

I can see

what I want to see

I can see

what I can see,

the presence of angels.

and I walk in silence

I feel this strength.

I hear the voices,

I see the dance  of hurt and joy.

I want to fly with the wind

of the universe

My dreams reach out

but my words fall short

even I

am falling

but will rise

and rise until my last day

Evenings

Evenings

Near to despair and anthills,
too tired to run,
I will sit and wait for bites

Paintings on the wall,
there must be a message. 
but my brain is as
numb as a dead man’s toe.

I crawl along corners
pull myself up for the EXIT.
why don’t I stay on the floor
There is nothing to gain.

They give me money
so that I listen to you
write notes, prescriptions.
for a moment of nothingness
you will get my attention
for what it is worth.

And then I come home
to my retreat
so I can place my garbage
in peace and what is left

Leftover selves
they just tumble across the room.
I don’t need shelves.
they disappear in emptiness

problem solved
dissolved
the alchemy of burnt homes
and I start to smile

which I still
find a
fairly
incredible
thing to do