Changing Landscapes

The vision is not that of the city;
Those lights do not shine here.

Instead, there are hills of green;
A cow moos in the distance.

At night the darkness is quiet,
as the rain touches the structure.

I thought I’d miss your charms,
as I think of all the things I could do.

Yet, when I lived as one of you,
I never did most of the things I could do.

Tempted to become a hermit,
I resist with both hands stretched out.

Yet in my heart there is turmoil,
for I didn’t come from the concreted hustle.

I’ve felt the land for most of my life,
yet I’ve resisted the call every single time.

Looking towards the rain covered green,
it might be time to embrace my truth;
I’m not so in love with the city as I once thought I was.

The Moody Sun

the sky holds the bad-tempered sun
in one of those moods,
the dry land is burning

humans walk along in a forced daze
animals take shelter
birds steal old chips

the firey winds blow through the cities
new hairdos flee freely
cracked lips are now “in”

winter white skin turns bright lobster pink
different pigments burn
natural tanners strip off

burning hell is the new spring so it seems
bushfires strip old towns
heartache echoes loss

from out of nowhere he moves so freely
sunnies for Mr Cool
Donning linen luxury

moving in a slow saunter to defy the sun
the sky looks down
wishing for the rain

the clouds see their chance to multiply
little wisps of white
now fat sooty beasts

the sun cracks it, but the storm will arrive
retreating in a huff,
as the clouds explode

Lost at 3 am

Your face comes to my sight

I study the beauty of you

Your face takes me into the light

I take note of your face

Your face shifts before my eyes

I slip into another place

Your ghost pulls me into the abyss

I see, then become whole again

You helped me find our light and love

I get lost at 3 am in words of you

You want me to write the story of us

I will write about when you were the Pharaoh

and

I was your gold and bronzed queen of the Nile