Wednesday, 30 December 2009


Rise, oh rise,
Rise from the deep moss;
From the bed of
The river yonder
That men don’t cross.
Fly through the
Darkened forest trees
For me, conquer
The canopy, the cruel
Nettles and bees.
Rise, oh rise
From the fires of hell;
Dancing in the
Blue haze and
Pounding my death knell.
Make the throes
Of joy quiver,
So that it knows
Here I come and
Enjoy it shiver.
Rise, oh rise,
Rise for me,
My phoenix
As my ashes rest
Here, for thee…


Oftentimes i thought,
Of the mad lover,
The one that wrote of rains,
And shook his finger at me.
While, on the threshold,
I stood, anxious,
For the next torrent of words
To drench me.
Seasons passed and
The leaf voice wilted;
The storms that curled and
Reared in the folds of my mind,
Were set free.
Oftentimes i think,
Of the mad lover and wonder
If I now sound stranger
The words of a girl,
The thoughts of a woman...