life on mars

so I make a claw with my hand

scratching earth with determination

when the dust is gone

perhaps the word love

washed away by time

emerges on fingertips

see them reaching out

these fingers are long

translation:

who wrote the book of schools

children fly to mars

searching for some other thing

 

 

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epitome…

smash mouth was a kisser

bad mouth boxing

translation:

art lives and dies on the swords of words and eyes…

dies of fashion…

is it always about love and dreams

yes I said to the tattoo of a moment

ink me into your embrace

sink me like a ship

grow me like a flower

catch me for dinner

throw my life away

transition:

my left finger leaves eats roots and causes

juxtaposed with eternal disposition

random words in ink sinking

until even on the ocean

translation:

for every king and queen there were seven million hunger

for every law ever made there was rape and plunder

for every god of love a god of hate

for every god of hate a single thought of love

goes like this:

tall best flower look down at weeds

soliloquy for the beauty

no thing for the bees…

one of many numbers

footprints in the red dust speak in whispers

they say fingerprints are the narrative

keyboards admire piano and poems

calculate this derivative of soul

follow the walking thoughts

dreaming of tomorrow

translation:

where exactly did the dream begin, the footsteps that talk to story

of all the stories of time are written in a moment

this moment translates eternal, birth, life, death

never once did anyone enquire

do trees dream…

 

zero. ergo.

when raindrops write your name outside

this fire of the heart and constant looking

dare I speak out loud the words

that say the sky is crying

then the flowers hang their heads in sorrow

as words flow down the gutter

then tomorrow strong the flowers stand

for sunshine is their lover

translation:

our names are written in the tears of a sky that watches all

flowers laugh in simple truth to be enjoyed by such a fool…

in our dreams

you can not hold love in your hand

or catch the wind

translation:

is love a glue that holds wind in our hands

speaks in such dreamy terms and conditions

contracts are not viable

whilst we can not hold love

we are all touched by it…

twist and shout

where the lens is pointed this is where most is exposed

the lens is pointed this is where most is exposed where

lens is pointed this is where most is exposed where the

is pointed this is where most is exposed where the lens

pointed this is where most is exposed where the lens is