posted on July 2, 2016 at 8:06 pm
veni vidi vici

veni vidi vici

the agony of exile my friends

i spend my time by the pools and the naiads of neptune street

alone doing yoga i contemplate material nature

reality separated from itself a hairline fracture

the gnawing rats

the click of a mouse

thru the thinnest skin taking it all in

there is the ocean here is the sky

on saturday night i’m in my room

able to do anything instead i do nothing

inertia and a slightly shivery feeling have chosen me

but i move along quietly wondering what it all means

apollo withdraws into night drawing down clouds for his hood

the crystal green ocean thrashes listlessly at the blonde sand

i hear the swinging wind bringing  winter elegy

the poets of before always seemed to be talking to me

oh sweet baby Virgil that cat had it in for me..!

when i abruptly refocus the jolt is like hitting a wall

sinking from within a fall

every night i surrender to that lady sleep

there is nothing we do not share

i walk along the barren shore

in my dream filled with dread

the birds whirl in the sky

crow black on bluest velvet delicates

the mind is like a desert  blooming now and again

ha i’m walking down an endless corridor again

inside where its always warm and dark

inside there is a room filled with love

next door tiny blue vishnu dwells and watches on

where beast man angel intersect on all the planes

the point of rapture the point of pain

the swimming image or some blurry figure in the rain

my world of seawater days and the terns and the rays

the victor brays and the loser mauls

where the names of the men who were killed in all the wars on the walls

come salt wind blow their memory away so they can be free

in the right light it is like Corinth or maybe Thessaly

the garden of the dawn a trespasser castles his pawn

the tangling flowers of light say goodnight from the night

vault of spacious emptiness sleep

window of forgiveness sleep

yeah andrenochrome  sleep

down in the chasm of the schism sleep

at the bottom of a bottle sleep

asking no question sleep















11 Responses to “ante-diluvian wine women and song”

  1. avatar
    Chris | 3 July 2016 at 3:38 am #

    the poet…the magician…the anti-illusion kings

  2. etta
    etta | 3 July 2016 at 8:40 am #

    Open invitation
    at your leisure
    Renaisense man
    Come in your own time
    Thanks for going out of your way
    You have a great impagination
    Ide scene you in a sleep
    A fragrant voice through ‘eather
    She likes the odd wino
    He likes wede
    Some say chartreuse,
    Others say ‘pooh!’
    Home is where the ‘earth is
    Classic night for
    chestnut roasting
    Deep down

  3. avatar
    Ingrid | 3 July 2016 at 9:36 pm #

    Great photo SK, and of course what can I say – your poetic words no one else can say it quite like you!

  4. kevinbreton
    kevinbreton | 4 July 2016 at 2:18 pm #

    That’s a real beautiful poem Etta. Have u ever seen that video wishful thinking by china crisis? That’s a real pretty number. England’s wishful thinking. But I felt like I’ve been all those characters That painting looks just like Tim. And that Bryan ferry looks great too. I mean wow! I haven’t been in a band for 12 years but I just did my usual routine of either annoying or entertaining the neighborhood with some tin whistle melodies. a lady say nice playing tonight. I was like thanks!!! I’m playing these tunes written from 1777 for fifes. Kid who wrote them died at age 20 from war. But they are the best whistle melodies I’ve heard. I definitely think there was something really great about english baroque music. Specifically restoration period whatever that was. They have peculiar but great melodies

  5. etta
    etta | 4 July 2016 at 9:46 pm #

    The honey aroma of sweet potato caramelising and snugness of oven on.

  6. avatar
    Cocoamo | 5 July 2016 at 11:56 am #

    How beautiful.

    Nice for taking the mind for a little spin around the old block.

    Your Friend in Pennsylvania

  7. kevinbreton
    kevinbreton | 6 July 2016 at 3:51 am #

    Vini vidi vici. Is really you too Mr K. People forget before the Anglo Saxons. The Britons were Christian roman citizens. Britannia I think. Celtic citizens of Rome. The most famous being St Patrick. Who was a Briton of roman citizenship. Who basically said vini vidi vici. To the snake population of ireland nothing new to know I’m sure. I’ve been listening to “feel”. What a great tune. Man!! If you don’t mind me asking. Whatever happened to Mr Richard Ploog? Back in high school when we played under the Milky Way. Me on the Roland jupiter 8!! Our drummer was like astounded by the drums on the Milky Way. He was like its real simple but really peculiar. Something like that

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