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Visions Two... I saw her riding down the plain A mighty mustang proud of mane, Bare of saddle, bare of hoof, All from life or death aloof, Down the wind black swallows racing, Up the hills late sunsets chasing, Down her shoulders flowing gown, Up her brow wild flowers crown... I saw her driving like a spell A roaring mustang color hell, Bare of top and bare of fright, Hundred fifty horses might, Screaming tires asphalt racing, Fearless freedom's laughter chasing, Streaming hair in blurring wave, Blinding smiles in living crave... I saw her touch her golden ring, All cuddled in a rocking swing, One hand around the squeaking chains, One hand but smearing teardrop stains, A snow white bunny jumping by, A chilly wind, a stifled cry, And dreaming, softly whispered pray, Somewhere, sometime, somewhen, some day...

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Counting Your Fingers... Counting your fingers, One, two... counted five, Then counted again, just to make sure, Looked down their thin length, Smooth, soft fingertips, Varnished fingernails, One broken. You laughed, you said it was while varnishing wood, A varnished casualty of varnishing... I tasted the broken nailed fingertip, It didn't taste like varnish, It tasted like the sea, like the ocean, like the dried up tear you tried to hide... I saw you moving it slowly, Hardly touching, Along my neck, my chest, round my waist, Along the back of my leg down to my toe, And back up, Slightly pausing along the way for a soft pinch, Back into my mouth, then in yours... I asked you to keep laughing, I wanted to count your teeth, To test their sharpness as they cut into my fingers... You preferred to cut into my lips, You said you wanted to feel what a vampire feels like, I told you vampires drink the blood because they are hungry, You drink the blood because you are in love, Then you tried to argue while I closed your mouth, Presenting you with my lips as the offering on your mouth's altar, But you refused to cut, You refused the sacrifice, You preferred to grind your teeth into mine, And let me sip the wild fruit nectar of your mouth, Getting me drunk, Insane... I wanted to count your strawberry tipped breasts, With my eyes, I found only one, The other one was hid by a stubborn arm that you placed querulously above it, I removed your arm but there was still only one, Now you hid the other one, So I stopped counting with my eyes and started counting with my hands, You allowed me, You allowed me to count with my lips as well, Moaning slightly, Giggling slightly when I touched a ticklish spot, Crossing your legs around my body and squashing me like rotten lemon, Crossing your arms around my back and squeezing so hard That for a moment I panicked and thought we are going to crush the strawberries, Then I remembered, They were there for crushing, For caressing, For loving... I refused to count the hours, How does one count infinity, How does one explain infinity when it ends, Paradise when it sheds its leaves, Love when it is counted by a rotating arm? I counted the tears instead, None underneath your eyes, So many oceans of it in your heart, Never ending, Therefore I started counting, Never to end, Never to leave, Never... Counting fingers, one, two... five, Thin like wooden flaming shive, Crawling shivers body rip, Tiny earthquakes raging deep... Counting sinking teeth in lips, Cutting softly bleeding strips, Clashing hungry tooth to tooth, Biting deep in lover's loot... Counting proud and burning tips, Taking sweetly flavored nips, With a taste of heaven's blend, With a scorching touch no end... Counting hours, counting days, Ruthless time its offsprings slays, Counting seconds, counting fears, Counting heartbeats, countless tears...

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Poet... How do I write a poem? You asked me, I didn't have an answer. Do I write a scenario, Do I plan the number of words, Of lines, Type of rhyme, The subject? Any or all, or none and any? How do I breathe? You didn't ask me, I don't have an answer neither. I tried to find it, the answer, For you, maybe for myself, I followed myself for hours, for weeks, Nothing. Bored to death, if it wasn't I then I would have asked for another assignment. Talked to you, Read your words, Listened, Nothing. Thought of choosing a career as a palm tree, It probably leads a more interesting life, Supporting armies of pigeons relieving themselves from its branches onto the sidewalk... Or maybe as a traffic sign?... And then, suddenly, a surge, From inside, deep in the chest, was it in the head and I imagined it to be in the chest? Suddenly, I remember a word you said, I retrieve a question you asked, I listen to your laughter and try to remember the reason, A cry of pain, A declaration of love, a grasp for the receding trails of a parting promise, And it starts swelling into a need, into a rumble, Into a tidal wave screaming... let me out... I want to live, My hand groping frantically for a broken pencil, For a torn white corner off an unpaid bill, Half an eye watching the rushing road, the other half of the other eye watching the paper, Scribbling fragments of words, phrases bubbling incoherently out, Messy, Like smog particles spluttering randomly out a factory's chimney, No logic yet one direction, up, away, An abstract mind's painting replacing colors, lines, hues, With verbs, synonyms, punctuation signs, Adding music in the form of rhyme, Adding heartbeats in the form of exclamation marks... Then the surge is over. Does it make any sense? Does it make sense to me, would it make sense to anybody else, Would it make sense to the only one other I care making sense to, You? Later, sometimes much later, I collect the written splinters of thoughts, Collate them, add a word, change some, painfully delete some lines, Never really satisfied but having to end it sometime, somehow. And I end it. It is finished. A last look, trying yet hardly able to be objective, Will you see through the web of abstract colors the deep passion woven into these lines, Will you guess answers to riddles I cannot decipher myself and deliver me with solutions, Will you want me to go on or scream that I should stop, Will you join me in my unreality and pretend you live it too? Like I do? I end it. It is finished. When will the next one come? Will it come? I am back to my daily. Listening. Remembering. Waiting for the surge. Will it come? It will. As long as there are words to listen, As long as there are lines to read, As long as there are memories to remember, As long as you are there to play these tunes on your mind's chords - it will. As long. And not one moment longer.

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Puppy, Kaleidoscope, Fairy... It felt so small against my shoe, It had three weeks, or maybe two, Its eyes a blur of shade and light Its squeal a murmur in the night, A fur so soft, a wagging tail, A low demanding hungry wail, Imploring warmth, imploring care, An innocent and drilling stare, I picked it up, into my shirt, Its little nose with stains of dirt, And then I laughed, the little thing Riding my belly like a king, Tried hard my nipple, quite uncouth, To rip with suckling toothless mouth... It was a tube, its colors bright, Outside was day, inside was night, And full with hundred pieces glass, And colored beads, and burnished brass, I looked its end... oh magic world With thousand shapes as round it twirled, And changing suns with rolling stars And flashes off gems rich with scars, No end of forms I tried to count, One special shape I tried to mount, But round and round the wonders shone, One life a second, then it's gone, My senses drunk, my mind a haze, A flowing dream on eyes ablaze... I thought... oh no, oh, could it be? A flood of gold from neck to knee, Were these there eyes? this depth unseen Where worlds do end and lives begin, Where these there wings? so thin and frail, On which sweet dreams and wishes sail, This rustling sound? when close she came, This scorching smell? a breathing flame, I couldn't see, I saw too well, I couldn't feel, I felt the spell, The magic mist thin through the air, The gentle breeze, the senseless scare, No human words could that portray, No words of wonder, nor of pray, And know I knew with sudden fright I've seen the glory, touched the light...

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ET Phone Home... In the village of Havalis, Round the corner from Detralis, Deep the county called Mishiga, Of the kingdom Am Er Iga Lives a creature, Mammals feature, Think she's virgin, Though her engine Manufactured has some seeds, What they humans call them kids, Never understood this feature, How could any higher creature Not just split Like we, thanks Git, I'm confused, Beg be excused, Thank you master, let's go back To this female human's shack, Where, afraid of human's cat, I just camouflaged in bat, Oh my Gitness Be my witness, This there female Left her e-mail And with viking battle sound Started chasing me around, Shooting something they call guns, Throwing something they call buns, Round the room With a broom, Eyes a flashing, Teeth a gnashing, Oh my master, I petition To abandon this my mission, Cauze I know that if she could, Given half a chance she would... Tried another stratagema, Split myself to hundreds them-a, Them-a spiders 's what I mean, You should hear the human scream, Beady eyes, Saucer size, Hellish blue, Piercing through, My poor parts all cringed in fear As she started stomping near, Hit me some, you know I hate, When I must regenerate, Changed to mole, Through a hole, Squirmed away Green and grey, While she kept yelling and grunting, Dirty words like spray and hunting, I must tell you master grace Such an alien this race, Using nails, Using rails, Stick their tongue When they're young, Primitives down to their marrow, Moving earth with one wheeled barrow, Master dear, no vacancy On Omega Triple D? This assignment, My confinement, It's death row, This you know, And one day when I won't see She will quash the whole of me, Cauze I know that if she could, Given half a chance she would... Did you read my first report Of this funny kind of sport When she takes this thing called car, Used for moving close to far, At a crawl To the mall, Merely ninety, Then, oh, mighty, There's this human with a cap, And a gun, and starts to yap, That's when starts the competition (Don't forget, please, my petition...) He is steaming, And is screaming, And is looming, And is booming, Suddenly... my female's beaming, And her teeth for seconds gleaming, In this grimace they call smile, Oh, the humans are so vile, And the cop's Voice tone drops, And his eyes Stick like flies To the female human's chest, What the hell's his interest In this wobbling hanging things Pulled back up by funny strings? Tell you master, A disaster, This world is, Help me, please, She's this world's most wanted nut, She may catch my nose and cut, Cauze I know that if she could, Given half a chance she would... Oh, dear master, thousand stories I could fill with my day's worries, Maybe, may I be so bold As to ask a place to hold In the ship With the creep From next door, Just... NO MORE! Or assign me supervisor Of the president's advisor, Or of plants, or of a tree, Just away from frightful she, She could lose One huge moose, She could spit Twenty feet, She could take a brand new tractor And like innocent an actor Smash it with this truck of her And pretend it wasn't there, I have seen, Gitly queen, Watched her stop At the hop, In her monster filling gas, Kick away with nose high class, Taking half a town to ride With the nozzle still inside, Watched in horror, Chief explorer, Mighty bank Like a tank She tore down with single sweep, Help me, save me from her grip, Cauze I know that if she could, Given half a chance she would...     *    *    * Honored master, just a moment, May I have a slight postponement, Think I found some kind of way, Where I wouldn't mind to stay, Cauze you see, Stupid me Played the wrong Kind of song, And I strongly do advise Our guidelines to revise, When disguise I have to choose Don't want choice like fly or shoes, But a blossom At her bosom, Crinoline On her skin, Breezy fragrance in her hair, On her ears a rubies pair, Crimson color in her cheeks, Music round the words she speaks, Lace on breast, Silk on chest, Air she breathes, Sword she sheathes, Lipstick touch upon her lips, Choice of colored perfumed nips, And somewhere along the way Maybe... human, if I may? On a chance For one dance Her to hold And enfold, While she whispers gently near Softly... love you... in my ear... Cauze I know that if she could, Given half a chance she would...

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H & H... Hell. Heaven. Heaven. Hell. Just two words I know too well. Heaven. Is it a what, is it a where? Is it a when? That short imperceptible smile radiating from cloud free tear stained eyes, That gentle unfelt hand squeeze at ends of trembling soft fingertips, That binding inexistent unbreakable promise chaining a heartbeat to a heart not of its own body?... In the smiling eyes, In the squeezing fingertips, In the promising heartbeat?... When a smile clears up the clouds from the tear stained eyes, When a gentle squeeze wakes up the tremor in soft fingertips, When a promise chains a heartbeat to an alien heart?... Hell. Heaven, and losing it. If what, if where, if when... Hell. Heaven. Heaven. Hell. Rolls and rolls the carrousel...

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Dying... Dying. Not having known you. No regrets. No expectations, Last of life's forgotten stations, Quiet, cold, the darkened alley Leading down the peaceful valley Echoes emptiness, erasing Footsteps, memories replacing With oblivion's final veil, Fades to nothingness the trail, And the nowhere whence I came Hastily wipes out my name... Dying. Having known you. Not having touched you. Sharp regrets. A burning passion Screams its pain in desert ashen, Raising fist and roaring prayer To a deaf unheeding slayer, Desperately clinging, turning, Fading hopes its insides burning, Crippling raving madness soaring, Wildly sky and god imploring - Wish me hell and all its ire For a single touch of fire... Dying. Having touched you. No regrets. Sweet expectations, Thrilling whiffs of sharp sensations Sculped in spirit, carved in flesh, Sense through hope with dreams enmesh, Knowing that at end of road, There where rivers never flowed, Between now and end of time Come will be this most sublime Of encounters - our dawn, From the end of time and on...

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Poems... You were a poem on page sixty five, I was a poem on page eighty seven, Many pages between us, and many poems, Thousands. An invisible hand rearranging them daily, the pages, the poems on pages... I knew your verses by heart, Partly rhyming, Partly not rhyming, Partly changing constantly, Adding lines, removing words, shuffling colors, A pulsating chameleon, A living kaleidoscope, a million colors rainbow, In red, in blue, in soft, in gentle, in warm, in nightingale tunes... I tried to listen to them, When the book was lying down and your page was above mine, The light penetrating the brittle paper, Reflecting your letters on my page, Mixing shapes, words, adding meaning, adding mystery, Changing love to lover, arm to warm, Changing pain to passion... Did you know you are doing that, Or was it the fortunate hand of the hazards god that composed the music? I tried to paint my lines on your page, When the book was turned the other way around, Creating shadows, forests, lakes of words, Undulating with the light beams enslaved by the fluttering window curtains, Silvery fishes jumping out of rivers, Golden leaves shivering under the spell of haunting siren voices... Trying to smile at you, And at times thinking I can... And when, at times, the book was sitting upright, Light drilling through its covers side to side, Dust speckles breaking the sharp rays into myriad scattered reflections, I had the impression that you... see me, You try to read me, try to reach through to me, Hitting with small punctuation fists the wide desert pages between us, Trying to tear a hole through them, To get your first line to touch my first word, Your title to kiss my poet's name, Your every verse to squeeze in between my every other verse, Creating a masterpiece, a new poem, a melody welding two lives... Creating a new life...       * Fell asleep, my forehead crushing piles of books strewn on my desk, Snoring slightly between novels, from modern to picaresque, Just returned from three days travel in this land, what was its name? In my bag a crumbling treasure with a verse so picturesque. Funny when that little fellow with an out of fashion beard, In that dusty little bookshop with a smell so oddly weird, Pulled me in, almost imploring for a favor... funny game, That this tome away I carry, as if hell was that he feared... Climbed aboard the train, my fingers burning with the itch of quest, As the iron monster grumbling swallowed miles while chasing west, I unpacked the heavy bundle with a certain strain of heart, Partly weary, partly laughing all my worries back to rest. Didn't feel, when did they fly by seconds, minutes, hours, miles? While my eyes their path were searching in between the pages aisles, Didn't I?... about this poem?... where?... what page was?... where's the start? And confused I kept on mumbling through my neighbors' hidden smiles. Was it just my sleepless hours hazing gaze to slumber come, Moments suddenly I shivered with my eyes a frozen glum, Words before my eyes were rushing, pages sliding like through spell, Then my head the cobwebs shaking, knowing that I looked so dumb... Dozing, shaking, reading, moaning, three more miles and here I'm home, Dizzily I climbed the ladder to my desk under the dome, All the while a rumbling tremor, like a mute and tongueless bell Seemed to pass cover to cover streaming through the giant tome. Numb with weariness and wonder, to the desk I pulled my chair, And my pipe with frozen fingers lighted puffing in the flare, Now, I told myself in anger, let's get down to mother earth, Let the daylight see the marvels melt away in thinnest air. Just an hour, then the sunshine dissipating will the haze, And it's time I set my bearings getting out of all this craze, Just some seconds, with my eyes closed I will smile with real mirth And I'll break the logic binding this most genial a maze...       * Light, it was always candle light. Or gas light, or fluttering oil lamp light. Never seen a stronger light, never knew there can be a stronger light. It is dark, I know my verses but can't read yours, Did they change meantime, Did you lose your way in the darkness and your words mixed up, Unrecognizable?... No, please, no, your words so enchanting, Your voice penetrating through the wilderness of the separating pages, Were you calling out for me moments ago, Was this vibration your way of telling me that one day our verses will mix for real, That the many thousands of pages separating us will one day be torn away, And our lines will meet, and our exclamation marks will touch, And your rhyme will complement mine and the music will be complete, In the voices of those reading us, In the eyes of those regarding us, dreaming along our lines?... Look, look sweet poem many many pages away, I see a light, getting stronger, oh, never seen such a light before, Now I can see you so clearly, Your lines so rhythmic, so fluid, Your shape so transparent and gentle... Do you see the whirling clouds surrounding our book? Do you see my lines? Do you see my words transparent fingers reaching to you, Do you see the desert, the maybe, the never, the sometime? Here, I found it, for the first time I found it, It was written in me and never knew where to look for it, Now I found it under this blinding light, Look, I found it, The magic word... the key to the riddle... fire... Let my desire Sweep me like fire, Let your sweet wonder Smite me like thunder, Let rhyming spell Burn me like hell...       * Fell asleep, my forehead crushing piles of books strewn on my desk, Snoring slightly between novels, from modern to picaresque, Just returned from three days travel in this land, what was its name? In my bag a crumbling treasure with a verse so picturesque. Was I dreaming? Did my slumber open up some mystic link, Did I hear low thunder roaring through the waves of printed ink, Was I still hallucinating, fever laying chesty claim To last shreds of failing logic on my madness' very brink? Suddenly, I jumped in horror, sleepy webs forever gone, Light was pouring in the small room from a proud and mighty dawn, White thin smoke still rising softly where my pipe has fallen down, And some charred and blackened fragments seemed to flicker off and on... Felt like crying, mighty heaven, now I'll never know nor find Was it magic, was it madness, was it sparks inside my mind, And I wondered, heart a thunder, on my face an angry frown, Sixty five and eighty seven, how in hell they got entwined?...

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Tunes Four... Don't steal my thunder, Don't steal my rain, Don't steal my sorrow, Don't steal my pain, Listen to my thunder, Listen to my rain, Listen to my sorrow, Listen to my pain, Soak in my thunder, Soak in my rain, Keep from my sorrow, Keep from my pain, 'Cause for you my thunder whispers ruffling through your golden locks, 'Cause for you my rain's a caress landing on your eyelash docks, 'Cause for you my sorrow's hidden hind the bars that line my chest, 'Cause for you my pain is never, never, never gone to rest... Forgive me my thunder, Forgive me my rain, Forgive me my sorrow, Forgive me my pain...       *  *  * Write me a smile... Is what you once said, Was fair Little Prince - Little Princess instead? And now we are one... Is what you once said, Was is not on the night When we two just wed? Forever and day... Is what you once said, Was in not in the words That I have just read? You gave me my life... Is what I once said, Did you really believe That my oath I will shed?       *  *  * You tied my hands to no avail With some strands of pony tail,       Paid my fee       To get free Twenty kisses was the bail... Tore your shirt to ribbons thin, Tied my knees under my chin,       Both we knew       Me and you In the end you're bound to sin... You tried another wild bear trap, Used your bra's silk shoulder strap,       While my mouth       Wandered south You just had my face to slap... Not much chance, what else you've got? Used your panties, double knot,       Man, oh, man,       Was it fun As you tried to hide that spot... Did you give up in despair? Oh, not you, what's fair is fair,       Bit of eyes,       Couple sighs And I crumbled then and there...

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Fairy Week... Monday. This there stupid fairy bitch, Just the thought of her - I itch, Started telling me a story Long and winded, fat and gory, Buzzing without shame and fear Right ear in and out left ear, Till I felt - oh, what the heck, I will squeeze her scrawny neck, Just to get my quiet back... Tuesday. Couldn't get her yesterday, She just wriggled out of way, And like nothing happened fore Started spinning other bore, Sitting high upon my nose In this careless fancy pose, I just picked my loaded gun, No, I didn't feel like fun, Here's a fairy... here is none... Wednesday. As one surely could have guessed, She was not that much impressed, After patching nose and chin (Mine of course, hope none has seen) Shifted gears to rumbling tone, Jokes, and songs, and on, and on... Where's this sling I bought today? I'll just sling her far away, To that far south stinking bay... Thursday. Yeah, I know, the door bell rang, Did I feel some heart deep pang? Sadly thought - "It is the cops, Carrying the ugly corpse..." Pulled the door, unlocked the chain, What the hell is this again? Shrilly laughing like a pup, You just started singing rap... Did I call her 'you' line up?... Friday. Started stomping round the room, Throwing axe, and knife, and broom, You...hmmm... ranted through it all, Flying like you had a ball, Was I having kind of fit Or... what's fair... enjoying it?... Then, of sudden, through this scud, One short squeal... a solid thud... No more you, but drops of blood... Saturday. No more sign of you, this hush, Where's the craze, the noise, the rush, Cringed in wait, in fear, in pain, Lay across the bloody stain, Humming half remembered runes From your noise, your rant, your tunes, No more screams under my bed, No more screams of sad, or glad, All the screams are in my head... Sunday. Tender knock... the door ajar... You are there, so is the scar Left across your naked breast... Pulled you tight against my chest, No more fairy, woman flesh In this body, God, so fresh, Don't care how, your lips about To dispel and ease my doubt, I just sealed them with my mouth... The Rest Of My Life. From the bridge to jump I'd try If it wasn't all that high, I would jump under the train If it wasn't for the rain, I would... got you, minds a gawking, Like the buzzards round me flocking... Fairy, lover, woman, wife, Through your scar I'll drink your life, Scalding passion ever rife...

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Letters... When the stardust turned to dust, When the rainbow lost its bow, When the passion changed to pass, When we lost the we in us, When the smiles got lost in miles, When the endless shed its less, When the beauty ceased to be, When we lost the us in we, When a lover says it's over, When you're lost in heaven's haven, When the flow of flowers dries, And when paradise just... dies...       * I look at the note in my hand. It carries tear stains. And crumpling signs. As if it was almost thrown away and then, nevertheless, sent. I looked at it as it started smoldering, Then a small flame consumed the thin paper, turning into a towering fire, Burning my fingers, Burning my arms, reaching my chest... I screamed in pain and jumped into the river, To extinguish the fire, to cool the burned flesh, Cool, cool... Cold... Peace...

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All I Wanted... As I watched the swelling river Racing madly 'cross the land, Sweeping forests, tearing mountains, Raging fury out of hand, As I watched the swelling river Ocean wide and mountain high, One small pebble, all I wanted, And to die... As I heard the old volcano Growling deeply like a beast, Pouring molten death and fury In a fire's raging feast, As I heard the old volcano Raising fists against the sky, Just a spark, is all I wanted, And to die... As I touched a graceful laughter, As I touched a roaring joy, As I touched a wild desire Hind thick layers of decoy, As I touched a secret yearning Hidden deep inside a sigh, Once to touch you, all I wanted, And to die...

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The Promise... Is it a promise? She said - yes... I asked her - when? She answered - guess... I tried a feeble - where? She smiled, Mid stampeding horses wild, Top a bed of hanging rocks Where the eagles nation flocks, Fathoms deep twilighted seas Roving sharks around and peace, Deserts wide of burning sands, Forests thick on long lost lands, In the languish, In the quest, In your chest, And in my breast...

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Circles... Morning. The hardest slice of the day. I open my eyes, I know I cannot stretch my hand to the pillow next to me, And touch your hair, I get up, I know I cannot bend over your side of the bed, And kiss your closed eyes, I wash, dress, leave, I know I cannot hold for a moment, And listen to your calm, peaceful breathing... Noon. The hardest slice of the day. You are regarding the phone, cannot call you, You are having lunch, cannot join you, You are shopping, cannot carry your bag... Evening. The hardest slice of the day. Driving back to a house empty of you, You are else, Dining alone, You are dining with else, Not smiling, You are smiling to else... Night. The hardest slice of the day. Knowing that tomorrow is morning...

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Touches... I want to comb your wet hair, After the shower, Stick the comb deep into it, at the top of your head, And pull it slowly, slowly, watching the parting strands, Slowly, touching the nape of your neck, Your shoulder blades, Your spine, lower, to your waist, Then pick up a second strand, Stick the comb deep into the soft silk, And gently pull down again, My fingertips touching your skin, Your eyes closed, dreaming, Slowly, slowly, to your waist, Then lower... I want to massage your feet, Pour soft glinting oil on your ankles, on the back of your knees, On the back of your thighs, And knead muscle by muscle, Bone by bone, The oil soaking into your skin, Your flesh soft and giving, My fingers touching the soles of your feet, Your thin ankles, your knees, One, then the other, Pushing the slow moving waves of flesh one way, then the other, Up to your thighs, Then higher... I want to touch your lips pink, I want to touch your fingernails red, I want to touch your eyelashes black... I want to paint your life sweet, I want to paint your life happy, I want to paint your life love... I want to paint me next to you. I want to love you.

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Almost... One day when God was kind of bored, He told himself - I am the Lord, I gave them heaven, gave them hell, And sight, and taste, and touch, and smell, I gave them laws, I gave them fun, I gave them love, I gave them sun, Well... free will too, that's quite a flaw, He smiled - I'm only God, you know... I'll leave behind some token sign And start on this my new design, I hope my wild unruly kids Won't blow this world to tiny bits, While in my lab, remote from all, I'll build an angel as they call. As some might know and some might say, His lab is mighty far away, And what is timeless in His eyes Is thousands years under these skies... So meanwhile laws we learned to break, And tiny suns alone to make, And love inside much empty shell, And bits of heaven, lots of hell, So when at last He finished there, His angel models ready were, (Some black, some white, some pale, some dark, Some sing, some dance, some talk, some bark)... He looked at us again... oh, no, And thunders raced from eyes to brow... His sleeves pulls up, His mind so clear - It's time I make some order here, So get prepared you world of shame To learn again to spell My name, And listen to the roaring sound About to come from round and round... Well, so He roars, but we all know His heart is soft, and all this show Just to ensure that not again Will He send fire, flood, and pain, And years on years He'll bear with us, And teach, and school, as eons pass, Only... till then, hmmm... (so He says) My angel models I must place... He pulls the spring, and then a whirr, As blood and heart begin to stir, The angels slowly float to ground, Well, then somehow they will be found, And for the time till end of wait They will just share a human fate, And love and death and life and pain, And once it's over... once again, Forever guessing - who is me, If do I am, if should I be? Till that one day when He has time, By then the world turns back to rhyme, And He will finish the design Of this His toy almost divine...     *    *    * Yes, I have seen her, I can boast, Some bit of wild, some bit of lost, Bit blonde and pale, bit blue of eye, Bit small, and soft, and gay, and shy, I simply guessed in minutes two She is just not the me and you, So then I tried to find the mark - The black and white and pale and dark, Tried hard to find the zipping line Looked left and right her tender spine, She just maintained I'm kind of nut, Right she may be... yeah right, yeah - but She is an angel, this I bet, She simply doesn't know it yet...

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