Monday, September 25, 2006

as it is, i will always be a stranger who never really feels at home, who does not really want is not really wanted, who can never belong, who must always be a little in love with death.


like a phantom within the silhouette, far from all that was once were, time has done its toll , like a stranger he's so familiar, yet his shadow i could never grasp, a little here a little there.


dreaming, not keeping lookout, feeling alone, and above, and apart, watching the dawn creep like a painted dream over the sky and sea which slept together. then the moment of ecstatic freedom came....


....like a saint's vision of beatitude. like the veil of things as they seem drawn back by an unseen hand. for a second there is meaning! then the hand lets the veil fall and you are alone, lost in the fog again, and you stumble on toward nowhere.

long journey into the night
Painting the sky grey @ 9:39 PM

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