tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41114169912375280212024-02-07T00:31:14.477-08:00All TomorrowsA pool for cascades of wordsAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-64611590994273722582017-10-25T13:33:00.001-07:002017-10-25T13:33:05.424-07:00iridescencego and ride a thousand days,<br />
my clear-eyed messengers,<br />
scour all points of the compass<br />
and find me a glimpse of iridescence<br />
<br />
for shining guidance into the unknown<br />
on the day that I dieAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-72993793901099843632017-09-23T10:40:00.002-07:002017-09-23T11:03:03.906-07:00azerbaijan noonerratic echoes<br />
of a swallow's cries<br />
faint and shrill,<br />
lost midget amid<br />
the persian blue vault<br />
of turquoise and gentian tiles,<br />
pool of cool noon,<br />
in iridescent samarkand.<br />
<br />
the first shy note strikes the oudAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-85948786947269575542017-07-30T11:06:00.004-07:002017-08-04T09:48:08.074-07:00motherand so I'm finally an orphan.<br />
<br />
all your deaths<br />
have scarred my soul:<br />
I've grown numb<br />
to my own death<br />
number 1 of 1All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-65644593920594113982017-07-27T14:31:00.000-07:002017-07-27T14:40:26.148-07:00burnso, eventually there comes a time<br />
when our words mean nothing<br />
when our ink's dried out<br />
and our pain is gone<br />
and nothing is, but<br />
what we do.<br />
<br />
ages-old friend<br />
welcome back<br />
together again<br />
<br />
let us love<br />
<br />
facetimeAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-74183026878782242712017-03-27T13:54:00.002-07:002017-03-27T13:58:37.923-07:00catch a windowmy distant tendrils already <br />
burying into seniority,<br />
with twenty-six
percent of the<br />
body and brain<br />
slowly breaking down<br />
<em><br /></em>
<em>what-the-fuck </em>as I look in the mirror.<br />
no gentle business,<br />
and ever-so-irreversible.<br />
<br />
true, it's vaguely becoming
-<br />
I've got the style now<br />
but no looks or stamina are left<br />
<br />
this sad sod here,<br />
waiting for you to <br />
catch up<br />
with me<br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-56686822364574253522017-01-03T07:37:00.003-08:002017-01-03T07:41:45.725-08:00melancholia<br />
single pidgeon<br />
in the distance<br />
of boundless<br />
grey suburban skies.<br />
<br />
sombreness<br />
dememoritised<br />
<br />
<br />All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-2772306654584841692016-10-26T06:31:00.005-07:002016-10-26T08:04:22.556-07:00taking flightwe revelled in the cold autumn rain<br />
that pattered all night through our open <br />
bedroom window: <br />
the lime taste of oxygen<br />
<br />
but suddenly the sky <br />
sweeps in from Meknes<br />
spreads blue hot chalk over<br />
god-forsaken Lisbon urburbs<br />
the asphalt crawling with<br />
gross fat black<br />
glistening princess ants<br />
<br />
princesses in life-and-death quests<br />
for the promised life<br />
the promised home<br />
they were entitled to<br />
blind to future <br />
com<br />
promises<br />
<br />
they make me sick to the<br />
bone<br />
stick to my trousers, to the windshield<br />
as I myself turn gradually into no<br />
thing<br />
boiling away on the<br />
hot autumn asphalt<br />
<br />
so in the stone blue distance<br />
let us hide <br />
in grounded old<br />
aeroplanes<br />
in the museum of flight<br />
before I vanish for good<br />
<br />
let me hide my hideous<br />
shrinking head<br />
in the warm Bedouin tent<br />
of the gentle cup of your hands<br />
where I know you will love me<br />
as I grow senile<br />
and evaporate<br />
<br />
I love you for so much more <br />
than thisAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-15057413120602538852016-10-06T23:55:00.002-07:002016-10-06T23:55:26.840-07:00wordless<br />
more explicit<br />
places & timesAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-19062418337824107232016-10-02T02:28:00.002-07:002016-10-02T02:28:20.568-07:00if it weren't for loveA hundred years on, I mummify<br />
Under pinetree and cyprest and<br />
Children cloaked in 3D twirling<br />
Unseeable, unfathomable bliss<br />
<br />
So I grow older imperceptably<br />
With each further quarter-hour<br />
Drowning in the breathtaking<br />
Fragrancy of pine-sap oozing<br />
From the autumn heat of Lisbon<br />
<br />
My sight and my aging trapped in<br />
Hot golden amber<br />
<br />
Wish you were here<br />
Your perfect smile<br />
To kiss sense into meAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-68721798018893066452016-07-22T02:46:00.001-07:002016-07-22T02:47:36.023-07:00uphillin the deep<br />
compost of the past<br />
on which we've grown tall<br />
and cannot grow back<br />
limbs lost<br />
<br />
step on it<br />
until it's compact<br />
until it's opaque<br />
until you grow<br />
into the very sky<br />
<br />
it's summer againAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-3154460593350270062016-06-14T15:00:00.001-07:002016-06-14T15:00:46.255-07:00chalka re-poled sphere, for thus we speak<br />
our thumbs minutely asunder<br />
with sparks and ether and miniature thunder<br />
our hapless clay faces, the quake that we seek<br />
but nothing ever shall come about<br />
nothing shall trouble our hives<br />
<br />
cowards in<br />
white and white and white<br />
<br />
we spit<br />
<br />
drinkAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-27256742444210796902016-05-24T12:59:00.001-07:002016-05-24T13:02:02.665-07:00counting down<br />
unnamed urge<br />
of fists of fights of flights<br />
in dreams in sleep that cuts
out of me<br />
this blur into white<br />
in nights that merge<br />
into days that
merge<br />
into a stream a decreasing<br />
count of<br />
tomorrows<br />
<br />
get me<br />
whileAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-16802538038076073642016-05-02T03:01:00.000-07:002016-05-02T03:01:03.481-07:00fernwehlet us hold hands<br />
and cross the border on foot<br />
take a dusty bus to the<br />
next unnamed town<br />
<br />
let us be nameless under the sun<br />
strangers to all but each other<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-19229762169717239402016-04-13T09:25:00.003-07:002016-04-13T09:26:41.581-07:00breathless<br />
no beliefs left<br />
no god, no guidance, no universe<br />
nothing but the DNA machine that I am<br />
and all the unstoppable things<br />
that I have set in motion<br />
that keep me in unstoppable motion<br />
<br />
a handful of years left<br />
before the end<br />
<br />
so how to find the only thing that matters?<br />
how to find Now<br />
<br />
<br />
and you in it?<br />
<br />
<br />All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-45502084991176065122015-11-12T07:53:00.001-08:002016-05-02T03:04:20.423-07:00nothing happened, except that I was savedaching fever, flat on my blanket<br />
the night hurls distant railway tracks<br />
and sweaty squalls of cabbage corpses<br />
from south-east<br />
into the black black chamber.<br />
<br />
in my fever dream, the corpse<br />
sucks me south-south-east into the landfill<br />
into her dark entrails, into her blackest fluids<br />
fever ache. the potent stench of rot<br />
in the bedroom<br />
<br />
but deeper into the night<br />
your compact body against my back<br />
the room smells of linen,<br />
Orion enframed in the window<br />
you smile in the glowing dark<br />
<br />
and touch me where I need it the mostAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-2516351327545010142015-09-17T12:46:00.001-07:002015-09-17T12:52:37.384-07:00I no<p> </p> <p>sick of soul self talk mirrors<br>all is said</p> <p>mirror fuck shatter.<br>these hands shall change<br>fight up down exclude<br>include</p> <p>world be</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-19806296668934856222015-04-23T07:32:00.005-07:002015-04-23T07:32:52.954-07:00soon, oh soon the light<br />
<br />
in a mere 30 years<br />all those that knew us<br />will be dead as well<br /><br />
so as
we grow older<br />no news is tellworthy any longer<br />for we see the true world
now<br />our fates but nothing<br />
<br />
so nothing is new<br />and what matters<br />is now<br />and what we leave
behind<br />perhaps, if we canAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-42674512526188910672014-12-05T02:59:00.001-08:002014-12-05T03:12:10.205-08:00resumption<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KlJvZ9wWXvcEjE8g9ZiQ-4j-DpezM6F7iCsd3yk2QzRYfvNH3_N7HodLuflaizQZm7qOtIXgfKGZ-BQCgp4kEF4LGhn5aCmw2DMfTmjRxSnzq_odM6CNB0gzq0Umqe5XgLeWhvWmrZYL/s1600/DSC00842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KlJvZ9wWXvcEjE8g9ZiQ-4j-DpezM6F7iCsd3yk2QzRYfvNH3_N7HodLuflaizQZm7qOtIXgfKGZ-BQCgp4kEF4LGhn5aCmw2DMfTmjRxSnzq_odM6CNB0gzq0Umqe5XgLeWhvWmrZYL/s1600/DSC00842.JPG" height="200" width="169" /></a></div>
so many goodbyes I've said<br />
and had to say<br />
until the world was gone<br />
and I was nothing but my husk<br />
carried by the wind<br />
over the cliff<br />
almost<br />
until I made the world<br />
my own<br />
<br />
I am that I amAll Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-50223653702328155272014-05-23T10:02:00.001-07:002014-06-02T01:51:03.247-07:00By the Pond II<p> </p> <p> So here I stand by the pond,<br> Peer into the murky green<br> Where my beloved ghosts live on.<br> One love in every verse,<br> And others go unsaid.</p> <p> May this crudeness be forgiven.</p> <p>Monica<br> Deep down at the bottom,<br> The little coal-haired girl<br> With sea-blue eyes<br> Lived in my heart alone<br> My made-up girl<br> Made-up friend</p> <p>Elisabeth <br> Village mayor’s baby girl<br> Her wild red hair stirs the waters<br> As she rides her giant horse<br> Across the depths of the pond</p> <p>Monica actual<br> On the first day of school<br> She smithereened my blue glass gift<br> And my minute soul<br> To eye-coloured shards</p> <p>Grit<br> First long kisses from<br> The ash-haired girl with her<br> Bewildering scent of cedarwood.<br> Asterix was better. I was eleven.</p> <p>Gitti<br> Strong and relentless<br> Adolescent love and pain and love<br> For half a decade we taught each other <br> How to make our bodies sing.</p> <p>Beate<br> And then 3000 miles away,<br> Proud and beautiful,<br> She bore me a daughter<br> I was young. Too young<br> Too young,</p> <p>The ephemeral poetess - Sónia<br> Beauty and words<br> Words and beauty<br> Our bodies sang electric<br> And then mutual betrayal.</p> <p>But so, so much of the pond<br> Is she, Inês, the world itself<br> In a single woman.<br> So much love given<br> So much love taken<br> I thank you with my tears<br> And a broken-china heart for<br> Our years, my years<br> So, so much of my life<br> I have become you</p> <p> So now I stand by the pond<br> As my tears fall into the still<br> Darkness of my pasts.<br> And from among all these ghostly faces<br> I try to untangle my own.<br> But you YOU alone,<br> Who now walks with me<br> Stands with me<br> Can see my real shape.</p> <p> Manuela.</p> <p> Hand in hand<br> Head against head<br> We sing the body and <br> We sing the soul.</p> <p>Come what may.</p> <p>Manuela.</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-20500305856762232542014-03-01T14:02:00.001-08:002014-03-02T05:10:56.306-08:00march relentless<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirHnmNmg0Dlxdwe0H2pz3Hy7zqX734_oFW02C2GlLY-wsTj6H8_mz3_yfhXS-IHpOBciLN3C_hT3WabW2GGVlVuRPXdX5xAlQwOm9_udUtolDJsPZhQfkIIit7C_VT7ooSI1hI8wtbL9Bp/s1600-h/Fog%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img title="Fog" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px" border="0" alt="Fog" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyGSWEECWpa47iUkKvbtu6hm4x-8Y_u-tVwP2WNdl-jYI0ajbzgelYS0_0mvlnT3OHtX4u9PsLULVzsjgAmvZQD2IpLF7UH3-dh9h6U9GDSebV2iHiztBFD-igTPUqSE_QHfyp_PAUT6Z/?imgmax=800" width="664" height="265"></a></p> <p>rain rain not in Spain<br>and our house a boat<br>cast in mould<br>drifting across these depths<br>of darkest ash</p> <p>until at last, as of today<br>the air has turned Atlantic for good<br>we’re subaquatic now:<br>you and I adrift<br>in our fog-coloured motorcar<br>cautiously pushing the headlights ahead<br>in a yellow bubble twenty feet across,<br>the world a mystery globe<br>of assumed wood sorrel and olive groves.<br>Platero: and us?</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-26691692582323376682014-02-13T05:44:00.001-08:002014-02-13T05:46:07.706-08:00hello<p> </p> <p>and so time marches on<br>more kindly so than remorselessly<br>the mandatory years have passed<br>and I look both back and forward now<br>so much learned, so much to pass on<br>on this one and only river of life<br>so much love taken, so much love to give</p> <p>but still: where did you go?<br>the freesias won't bud this year<br>under these pitch-black Atlantic rain clouds</p> <p>wherever you are, and be it in our minds:<br>we're fine. life 2.0 is good to us</p> <p>wish you could see us</p> <p>love,</p> <p>Fred</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-91686538535927178882014-01-06T06:53:00.001-08:002014-01-06T06:57:26.514-08:00fisherman's friends<p> </p> <p>furious skytall Atlantic<br>rams grey into white into<br>white into grey<br>sky violence</p> <p>the beach restaurant quivers rumbles<br>no customers but I<br>the world around us onslaught of<br>forty feet tall towering inferno<br>rushes straight at the window<br>across from my half-finished dish<br>of pan-fried fish<br>'coffee please', my voice kept steady.</p> <p>and the tide keeps rising.<br>mint may, sweet’eart</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-46557583847818003302013-12-30T07:13:00.001-08:002013-12-30T07:14:51.405-08:00new year<p> </p> <p>we beg your pardon,<br>but this new year's eve<br>we'll be gone in our cave<br>underneath the etherdown<br>as our bed rocks down time across<br>falls & eddies & tidepools & swifts</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-88036530195693457532013-11-29T07:22:00.001-08:002013-11-29T07:24:36.850-08:00armour breaks<p> </p> <p>across our abysses of time<br>- yours mine his hers -<br>we dance stumble rise fight dance<br>mourning sunrise morning<br>as the vastness of the past<br>flows seamlessly into here –<br>none of our learnings wasted</p> <p>love is all we can give<br>& nothing is wasted.</p> <p>ours</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4111416991237528021.post-81453711023288808962013-09-24T03:28:00.001-07:002013-09-24T03:28:56.738-07:00counting down<p> </p> <p>my limbs twist gently into<br>new configurations<br>fur begins to spread<br>my head shifts into<br>a more efficient angle<br>a forward drift of stance<br>in the amniotic fluid<br>of my cocoon<br>taut like a spring:</p> <p>the membrane cracks<br>the transformation will be<br>complete</p> <p>soon</p> <p>I'm ready</p> <p>to speak</p> All Tomorrowshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18428158320571452631noreply@blogger.com0