acraein

Bombay Bicycle Club – Leaving Blues

”I’ll prove how much I love you with this handstand.”
-Spencer Krug

A place at night to consider things I can’t have.
Gone from our time, the past, she of kings, I can’t have.

Beach boulder perched under ripe light of moonstruck night,
But in mind, she and I, by suns springs I can’t have.

This moon is no sun, this ocean is no fresh stream.
Trashpools round my castle brings birds wings I can’t have.

“T’was my parade of knowing small things of the world
that caught her eye.” Self deceit shows, rings. I can’t have.

My minds filter lets less light in than do my eyes.
And you hold only long straws and strings I cant have.

“It is night but it is light Connor, don’t wallow.”
Did I just hear songs that water sings? I cant have.

image-{Lina}

Tags: Poems, Poetry

Califone – Fruitstand Floor

At all times She commanded the bold sun. Except
when young dusk grew, and His skilled hands washed it in thick ink
I used to pen the stringed dreams I had when I slept.

Her arms spread across the dim expanse and the sun swept
from horizon to sky, but He aimed for it to sink
at all times. She commanded the bold sun except

when the breath of night pushed through the blinds; it’s kept
at bay by halogen orange spun shadows from chain link
I used to pen. The stringed dreams I had when I slept

showed the battle of light They fought. Each one adept
at manipulating the others false move or blink
at all times. She commanded the bold sun. Accept

that Her light of daybreak through the glass so pink, crept.
Her stretching fingers, waking me up from Your dark drink.
I used to pen the stringed dreams. I had when I slept,

learned to shroud myself in my deep thoughts, the light inept
at stepping through; the light that wouldn’t let me think
at all. Times, she commanded the bold sun. Except
when I used to pen the stringed dreams I had when I slept.

image:hbp_pix

Tags: Poems, Poetry