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Moon Sonata
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Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can the child within my heart rise above?

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Existence
I'm not here most of the time
guests say I'm not vivacious enough
that my jokes are callous and grey
like the Photographs without frames
scattered all over the place
in bourgeois sophistication
they say I'm as pale as my living room
that my intentions are too volatile
and that they've never seen me
crunch seeds while watching the news
they don't even know if I'm still alive
and to tell you the Truth
there are moments I don't really know either.
Time and again I perceive the amazement
of Being
exactly on the edge between the two Frontiers
where the obvious enclasps the imperceptable.
So I force myself to remember
the girl with orchid Eyes
indulging unwillingly
in the pleasantries of the mundane
it was June once more, another June,
Prom Night
and all the way back home
she sensed a heavy brimstone smell
in her nostrils
as if God was trying
to drop her a line from Heaven
she felt January in June and pearly petals
ripening into snowflakes on her cheeks.

I'm not here most of the time
though I come back to host
my uncontainable guests
and gaze straight through them
into the distance.
(C)MoonSonata


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Post has attachment
Existence
I'm not here most of the time
guests say I'm not vivacious enough
that my jokes are callous and grey
like the Photographs without frames
scattered all over the place
in bourgeois sophistication
they say I'm as pale as my living room
that my intentions are too volatile
and that they've never seen me
crunch seeds while watching the news
they don't even know if I'm still alive
and to tell you the Truth
there are moments I don't really know either.
Time and again I perceive the amazement
of Being
exactly on the edge between the two Frontiers
where the obvious enclasps the imperceptable.
So I force myself to remember
the girl with orchid Eyes
indulging unwillingly
in the pleasantries of the mundane
it was June once more, another June,
Prom Night
and all the way back home
she sensed a heavy brimstone smell
in her nostrils
as if God was trying
to drop her a line from Heaven
she felt January in June and pearly petals
ripening into snowflakes on her cheeks.

I'm not here most of the time
though I come back to host
my uncontainable guests
and gaze straight through them
into the distance.
(C)MoonSonata


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Post has attachment
Existence
I'm not here most of the time
guests say I'm not vivacious enough
that my jokes are callous and grey
like the Photographs without frames
scattered all over the place
in bourgeois sophistication
they say I'm as pale as my living room
that my intentions are too volatile
and that they've never seen me
crunch seeds while watching the news
they don't even know if I'm still alive
and to tell you the Truth
there are moments I don't really know either.
Time and again I perceive the amazement
of Being
exactly on the edge between the two Frontiers
where the obvious enclasps the imperceptable.
So I force myself to remember
the girl with orchid Eyes
indulging unwillingly
in the pleasantries of the mundane
it was June once more, another June,
Prom Night
and all the way back home
she sensed a heavy brimstone smell
in her nostrils
as if God was trying
to drop her a line from Heaven
she felt January in June and pearly petals
ripening into snowflakes on her cheeks.

I'm not here most of the time
though I come back to host
my uncontainable guests
and gaze straight through them
into the distance.
(C)MoonSonata
25th of June 2018


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Post has attachment
Existence
I'm not here most of the time
guests say I'm not vivacious enough
that my jokes are callous and grey
like the Photographs without frames
scattered all over the place
in bourgeois sophistication
they say I'm as pale as my living room
that my intentions are too volatile
and that they've never seen me
crunch seeds while watching the news
they don't even know if I'm still alive
and to tell you the Truth
there are moments I don't really know either.
Time and again I perceive the amazement
of Being
exactly on the edge between the two Frontiers
where the obvious enclasps the imperceptable.
So I force myself to remember
the girl with orchid Eyes
indulging unwillingly
in the pleasantries of the mundane
it was June once more, another June,
Prom Night
and all the way back home
she sensed a heavy brimstone smell
in her nostrils
as if God was trying
to drop her a line from Heaven
she felt January in June and pearly petals
ripening into snowflakes on her cheeks.

I'm not here most of the time
though I come back to host
my uncontainable guests
and gaze straight through them
into the distance.
(C)MoonSonata


Photo

Post has attachment
Existence
I'm not here most of the time
guests say I'm not vivacious enough
that my jokes are callous and grey
like the Photographs without frames
scattered all over the place
in bourgeois sophistication
they say I'm as pale as my living room
that my intentions are too volatile
and that they've never seen me
crunch seeds while watching the news
they don't even know if I'm still alive
and to tell you the Truth
there are moments I don't really know either.
Time and again I perceive the amazement
of Being
exactly on the edge between the two Frontiers
where the obvious enclasps the imperceptable.
So I force myself to remember
the girl with orchid Eyes
indulging unwillingly
in the pleasantries of the mundane
it was June once more, another June,
Prom Night
and all the way back home
she sensed a heavy brimstone smell
in her nostrils
as if God was trying
to drop her a line from Heaven
she felt January in June and pearly petals
ripening into snowflakes on her cheeks.

I'm not here most of the time
though I come back to host
my uncontainable guests
and gaze straight through them
into the distance.
(C)MoonSonata


Photo

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RETREAT
Farewell,
Stranger with a tree name,
prophet of concealed tears,
guardian of sleepy magnolias
and untrodden lanes,
fervent hearts rip the sky,
but I'm not forlorn
as unveiled questions
get lost in constellations.
I'd rather contemplate life
with all its twists and turns
chain Dreams,
once the summits i feared climbing
catch Melodies,
once the concerts I hardly attended
conquer Stellar Waves,
once the augury I ignored fiercely
and still float into Your shelterless night.
(C)MoonSonata
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RETREAT
Farewell,
Stranger with a tree name,
prophet of concealed tears,
guardian of sleepy magnolias
and untrodden lanes,
fervent hearts rip the sky,
but I'm not forlorn
as unveiled questions
get lost in constellations.
I'd rather contemplate life
with all its twists and turns
chain Dreams,
once the summits i feared climbing
catch Melodies,
once the concerts I hardly attended
conquer Stellar Waves,
once the augury I ignored fiercely
and still float into Your shelterless night.
(C)MoonSonata
Photo

Post has attachment
RETREAT
Farewell,
Stranger with a tree name,
prophet of concealed tears,
guardian of sleepy magnolias
and untrodden lanes,
fervent hearts rip the sky,
but I'm not forlorn
as unveiled questions
get lost in constellations.
I'd rather contemplate life
with all its twists and turns
chain Dreams,
once the summits i feared climbing
catch Melodies,
once the concerts I hardly attended
conquer Stellar Waves,
once the augury I ignored fiercely
and still float into Your shelterless night.
(C)MoonSonata
Photo

Post has attachment
RETREAT
Farewell,
Stranger with a tree name,
prophet of concealed tears,
guardian of sleepy magnolias
and untrodden lanes,
fervent hearts rip the sky,
but I'm not forlorn
as unveiled questions
get lost in constellations.
I'd rather contemplate life
with all its twists and turns
chain Dreams,
once the summits i feared climbing
catch Melodies,
once the concerts I hardly attended
conquer Stellar Waves,
once the augury I ignored fiercely
and still float into Your shelterless night.
(C)MoonSonata
Photo

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The Other Self
change this dissonant farce
called music
into perfect silence
and let's listen to it
burdened with improbability
as the story placidly weaves itself
and you run the tips of your fingers
over the piano keys
with lips locked
so not to utter
even the shadow of a sound.
Trespass, and be
your other self,
the one who provokes,
who makes you slip
through the cracks
of undivided attention,
the one who deliberately eludes
while evolving
into a slippery construction of sorts
for you don't get to choose your design
you're just a button rolling on the road,
head in hands is the remains of the day
as you become your own question
your own double,
so build a bridge
get over yourself
let your cryptic dreams invade
the other you
and let's listen to the silence
that which lasts.
(C)MoonSonata
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