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Seeking Xanadu: March 2010

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Sunday, March 14, 2010. Self-Pity' by David Herbert Lawrence. I never saw a wild thing. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough. Without ever having felt sorry for itself. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Whence can I see your snarky self again? Wondering, drifting, questioning, pontificating, self-righteous, procrastinating, star-gazing. View my complete profile. Funny Quote of the Day. Do you see what I see? Follow me on Twitter. Favoured Realms of Thought.

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Seeking Xanadu: December 2008

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Thursday, December 25, 2008. Catpic of the Day. Tuesday, December 23, 2008. Discarded eyes of vision. Glued up souls of plastic. Hearts, a flea market of malice. Pickled intents of evil. Masquerading as last boons. Children, nurtured in loathing. In the gnawing blanket of hate. Mere trinkets for psyches. Willing to dissect out humanity. Rough beasts slouch and rule. Fate trembles at the cowardice. The silent collective fails. To be judged one last time. Of shining ...

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Seeking Xanadu: Block

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Tuesday, May 26, 2009. Why do you crouch in the dark shadows of my mind? Do you wait for something? Or someone to manifest from the creases of my chaotic mind? Do you seek something? Like I do,. Like I have always done? Do you try and grasp flowing air,. Arrest running water,. Hold on to sliding sand? As I have done ever since that day. When I questioned the mystery of the chimeral strands. Swaying in front of my eyes. As I walked down an alley with a bleeding knee?

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Seeking Xanadu: November 2008

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Wednesday, November 26, 2008. The speck of dirt on a spic saxophone. First autumnal leaf in the garden. Sour grape in a vintage vineyard year. Sightless in the gaggle of speech-less. Monday, November 24, 2008. For, those with veiled eyes -. Will count the thorns on a rose. Will see the half-empty glass. And dunes, not the oasis beyond. Will see malice in kindness. And threats in helping hands. For, those with Is -. Are like horse eyes. Fail to see the other side.

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Seeking Xanadu: It is then...

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Friday, July 20, 2012. In the middle of a quiet afternoon. Or in the sleepy corners of the night –. It is then that it hits. It is then that it hurts. The ties that bind. Surely are most slack then. Because, surely where are they. When the heart stretches and stretches. Yet finds that that which fills. Is not the intangible belongingness;. It is the more tangible emptiness. The flaccidness of the empty corners of the heart. Kinfolk were never kin, you see.

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Seeking Xanadu: October 2008

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Thursday, October 30, 2008. Of mornings filled with daydreams. Of nights of living in self-stories. Of lazy afternoons spent making wishes. Of shaking fists and tearful wrath. Of cussing Gods for abandonment. Of experimenting with the dark side. Of learnt lessons in humility. And dependence in freedom. Of walking a mile in heating sun. Of learning about Keynes and worms. Of tolerant theories of freedom and. Of prancing Minerva’s owl in daylight. Gales of hot air.

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Seeking Xanadu: January 2009

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Monday, January 19, 2009. Restless heart in a lonely quest. Drawing starry lines on palms. Seeking wavelengths and frequencies. Travelogues and random way stations. Flitting thoughts and hopeful eyes. Sensual susurations of breath on neck. Of warm tendrils slithering into the aorta. Triumphant eyes twinkling in the darkness. Undercover reactions to primal instincts. A million years of calculated expertise. Tactics and desires and the lure of the call.

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Seeking Xanadu: Two burning ends of a candle

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Monday, March 16, 2009. Two burning ends of a candle. On the first day. I walked over a virginal beach of glass. Burnt cold with the icy glare of a dead sun. On the second moonrise. I reached the edge of the red sun. Blinking tiredly over the yellow pockmarked planet. On the third rise of dawn. I looked up into the trapped eyes of the man. Draining his life-blood on my expensive Turkish rug. On the fourth burst of first light. I looked askance at the walking green.

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Seeking Xanadu: Fly Itch

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Tuesday, February 03, 2009. I could call you names. I will smile at your naiveté. I could rant about your evasiveness. I will credit your scrappy guts. I could make an example of you. I will keep your example in mind. I could seethe about absurd attitude. I will marvel at your obtuseness. I could rat out your Houdini skills. I will forgive you your closed mind. I could still lend you a helping hand. I will look to shield my own hand. I could outright dislike you.

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Seeking Xanadu: Mind Dawn

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The stars weave the only path I follow. Sunday, February 01, 2009. As the sun climbs higher. As the dark mists vaporise. As dark trees lift their veil. As birdcalls pitter across leaves. Nature's symphony in cacophony. Fine lines drawn in avian lyrics. As little alarms chirp across town. As light creeps behind sleepy eyelids. As sunlight streams past reluctant curtains. Clarity sweeps the subconscious floor. I see quite a makeover! BTW, nice pic! Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Funny Quote of the Day.