"He persists in the naive belief that smugly grasping at bourgeois strengths can substitute entirely for Bohemian freedom". Neal Cassady. Collected Letters.
A storm in your scars... a breeze in your hesitations... a Goodbye in your Hellos... the varnish of the present impregnates even the unknown...
The crack is about to reign... and one humble tinge of despair crosses the labyrinth of tears floods the silence no more...
I like the taste of your pensive looks... the softness of your wanderings... the tumultuous tempest of so many resignations...
The clock keeps going to the Next Destination... Subterfuges no more... The exit is beyond your reach...
Maybe you should have taken the opportunity... Maybe... Nobody will ever know...
A bell is pealing... a heart is kneeling... a dream is vanishing...
As soon as the oracle is perennial... there will be a river with the most crystaline hopes...
As soon as it is not too late, there will be a place by the bank of your desires...
As soon as the performance has no audience... the rainbow will be perpetual and a new Age will have started... Can not you see it? Can you?
No comments:
Post a Comment