White Massed Sky

And old poem, from around 2005.

White Massed Sky

When I look to the sky,
I find my dreams, written in the clouds.
Lofty white masses
of water
Floating in the blueness.
A teddy bear!
He’s holding a lollipop,
A rabbit!
It has long, fuzzy ears.
I can almost see it twitching its nose.
A dog!
It looks content and strong.
A face!
It’s only a gun.

The gun shoots and I fall.
The fluffy white bullet strikes
my heart, and so many others,
while the clouds continue to float in the
blue sky.

Untitled

The other day,
I saw a crack in the city,
between the needles on the street.
And the skyscrapers
injecting themselves
into the sky

The ocean blended with heaven —
a warm, blue universe,
inviting all those to stay.
And in this fracture,
all was peaceful and calm,
while a tempest
of shouting
traffic
and plagues
raged outside the blue.

The blue, confused me.
The line between water and sky was blurred
nonexistent
as if the sky was now on Earth
or all the oceans floated in the air
an elegant carpet into the galaxy
I stared in awe, transfixed by the beauty
And the confusion.

But when I blinked,
the city returned to its former state,
as if it had healed itself.
The crack in the city,
now smoothed over and filled in,
like the cracks on the road in front of me.