(only words)

And so. Still.


Lying in the dark
this thinking
watching street
lights
or cars: streaks

ceiling

Roll on my side and
think. Some more
There
still lights, but
little noise

Wonder who drives that car
up on my ceiling

out
glass of water
different now
at night

Let the room
fill up with refrigerator
light
a distant
calming buzz
Let the entire room
fill up

Refrigerator open
longer than I should

and then back to
street lights. cars.
ceiling

tomorrow

happiness # 48

to listen to the soft, crackling sound of a match after you've blown it out. as if crystallizing, in wood.

All These Things

"There are one hundred glow-stars on my bedroom ceiling. I've got crescent moons, gibbous moons, planets with Saturn's rings, accurate constellations, meteor showers, and a whirlpool galaxy with a flying saucer caught in its tail. They were given to me by a girlfriend who was surprised that I often lay awake after she went to sleep. She discovered it one night when she woke to go to the bathroom, and bought me the glow-stars the next day.

Glow-stars are strange. They make the ceiling disappear."


- Alex Garland, The Beach

happiness # 47

coastline here bay here rocks here trees with dry skins here some birds here boats, yes here rocks here sand, but only here and there here still, sand here height here slight roll of water here whoosh here almost bare feet here rocks here veil-like cloud here reflections here as if no sounds here watch with small eyes here sky here distant shuffle of a bare, inaudible wind here rocks here such a deep here yes, blue here never to leave

line of lyrics # 1

All these accidents
That happen
Follow the dot
Coincidence
Makes sense
Only with you
You don't have to speak
I feel



(Björk - Joga)

third one in dutch

Dit is het leven

dat ik schilder. Grote,
ononderbroken lijnen sliertig wit
Krassen in houtskool, met fijn
penseel dagen borduren in
kleur, diepe etsen in zwart, snedes
van oud hout. Ik schrijd

verder, maak van lichaam
verlengstuk tot pen
Groei in mij, groei op doek, word
steeds kleiner. Herleid tot vorm.
Tot vage lijn. Zo wordt
dit werk, bodemloos. Alles
canvas.

learning to fly (lesson one)

never a flicker of doubt. never.

song of the day (this has been a while)

Philip Glass - The Poet Acts


(It bursts. Open. A wind.

A small crack of such streamings. The pain somewhere in between. The subtle animosity.


A shift in tone.


Once again, but stronger now. Long, sharper string thread. A bold march through a field of dark gray notes, leaning against your legs, warm somehow.

Minor.

Let it bloom. Let it swallow. Me. I go.

This is how it comes, this is how it disappears; stronger, weaker. Tidal refrain. I along.

Once again. Once again. Still at the same pauses as first, but so much more now, so much more.


Until it dies a moment, into less.


Only to come back again. A rephrase, a thought. Still those same notes. Endless field. Leaning slower. In the wind.

Straw and straw and straw. All added, all joining. The march. As with a million feet. Under hidden faces, staring at the ground. This will never end. I hope this will never end.

Despite the


Sadness.


The cold stream like sea pier wind enwrapping encasing cutting around desperate certain feet.

Until only wind. And off.)