here and there

roads
are tightly gathered
by the autumn day
in a woven pouch bag
which is made of stars
he forgot to take me
to the place
I may
at the gates
exchange tears
with my beats of heart
I might get
a white fluff
with the tears
as well
there is
no wind there
with no words to kill
not a single thought
floats
meanings
tend to swell
even poor subtitles
have to be reskilled
what I see
a barefoot
soul is walking
and
calls old hazes –
grasses
and seclusion –
land
some of RIPs
are missing
some
left to withstand
no one
makes a profit
out of any plan
you may walk
in circles
singing to yourself
Hallelujah Heaven
paradise is lost
can you show
that heart now
where my bliss still dwells
or keeps roaming deep down
elevating cost?
and
what could be later
swapped
with vivid pain
which of sins
may cause your
mellow sleep to cease?

hey you know
that pleasure
smolders
in your veins
over all that hellish
blues
it reaches peace
just remember
that you
are a shrine for him
and the last of shelters

go out on a limb
where the “here and there”
all intertwined with dreams
as a bunch of angels
with a pack of imps

January 2, 2019


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