Vagrant Symphany

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the vagabond , his emporium

lays down his orphaned head

a surrealistic pillow of pandemonium

a wrong note seals his fate

this night of winds enormous .

see his bones with softest hand

scattering peace to ten Peruvian mares

breaking hay bales upon this land .

 

do you really exist

did I really see you that day

was it the flash of the bulb or where

senseless scribbles of pencil lay .

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the vagabond , his performance

opens a bottle of cheap wine

a renaissance of playing cards importance

the ace of hearts laid out on paper wrap

this dusk of summer solstice , a waning chorus .

see his eyes ,unlike Chopins nocturnes , a dreams disaster

he sits nere turning his head on a delicate unshaven neck

a song of one long crescendo sighing from the pasture .

 

do you really exist

did I really see you that day

was it the flash of the bulb or where

senseless scribbles of pencil lay .

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the vagabond , his Europa

stands staring at voices in the barn

the moon of Jupiter quiets his colt Lakota

a sweet note , the Garden of Allah where

all horses talk keeping secrets , digging up diamonds

with no alliance of violence to capture

the peace of their king , the son of Zeus

the vagabond with wounded fracture .

 

do you really exist

did I really see you that day

was it the flash of the bulb or where

senseless scribbles of pencil lay .

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did you tell me what they said

the horses surrounding you with warmth for bed .

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Vulnicura ( injury , care of souls )

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chanting , chanting

a woman grey screams

terrible terrible revenge .

 

the bamboo flowering

a hundred years transplanting

the man who fell to the earth

he walks towards new love from Kandahar panting .

 

the yellow frock opening

a sudden kiss upon her stomach. ner to mourn

he protects her , he does not tell her

a dove on the distant Oak yet unborn .

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the naked neck shyly speaking

a sunbeam large as Zion to adorn .

the boy who appears from the hole in the ceiling

music heard out of the soil stillborn .

 

the insects chirping

some carry shelter wherever they go .

his mouth the brown nipples swallowing

sweet as he lays her below .

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the tunic like a sheet now breathing

the lovers rise to the heavens sky

the flower of a saffron petal omelet

rests the white blush pure of her thigh .

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Heras heart has a wicked tongue

a mouth filled with one thousand eyes

her threat burning resentment . yet behold

milk sprayed across the skies .

 

chanting , chanting

the lovers whisper with suckling contentment

terrible beauty to blossom avenge .

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Credits : Girl in White – photo by Katie Chausheva … Sculpture by Christina Bothwell

Special gratitude to Aquileana ( La Audacia de Aquiles ) my wordpress friend for her inspiration from her beautiful blog on mythology