Length by breadth, an area Two dimensional Add depth Three dimensional Cast into the ether Four dimensional
Twisted in time Five dimensional Essence extracted Six dimensional
Ingested Seven dimensional
Driving forces – ABS Dr
Geometry confronts the desert Of minds ferment Lavished in the orbit of dusted clouds Laid bare, heavily constrained
Lone travelers peer into the crisis Of boredom, arms rigid, eyes closed Floating on a crust of silica In a haze of consciousness
Colour contorts the senses Shrieking eloquently life’s tabloids Laid lengthways in sledges Of restrained delight
Barred and cubed the horizon tumbles Blocking the senses, wailing ambition Layering effortesly toward firmament Blurred with illusion
Beneath, caverns yawn and wallow Energetically drained of lustre Slowly caucusing darkness
Waiting for the earth to melt – ABS Wait
Waiting, waiting Slapped on rock, emulsified Dreaming, dreaming Askew and asunder
Wispish puffs of molten air Circle, circle Pouncing upon edges rift Asunder in the sky
Stretching, standing Pulling against the cling Tearing, tearing Sinew and muscle
Dark clouds hover Buzzing Descending on exposed ochre
Faintly, free at last Unbounded from rock Freakishly, freakishly Bonding with the sun
Brendan
Life in the slow lane Wandering through Gardens of sawdust Watching the sun Slowly fade
Twinkererd by race Watching for Lads of the night Racing for knowledge Of chisels and squares
Empathy in quids Father, go figure Seeking a life Besotted with wife Thoroughly nice
Certainty of life
Shadows on the ceiling Silhouettes in a dream play Long fingers of ash tree Beyond the windows, reaching out For the silence of body Of light Encircling, embracing So, the night
Colin Falconer So the night Wandering aimlessly toward dawn Crestfallen by dark clouds Opening in grief Demons hopscotch to the sound Of grey Breaking slowly in the face Of lopsided hills
“In the daylight hours it was easy To perform, forget the lies But with the setting of the sun Ghosts walked In the quiet of dread You could hear the cry of banshees Wicked remembrances of the dead”
Silhouettes clutter the mist Staggering slowly, loping Carving expectation upon the dew Resting, finally, on soil Lower keefercalls sound the knell Of day Falling leaves bequest Mounds of ire
Foretold for generations Banshees curled their head Seeking the blood of night Waiting patiently Until released by gossamer Skip and canter Across the barren landscape
Wherein the vault, dust stirs Wafting over the scents of decay Silent bells summon the long departed Slipping silently into crevices Awaiting pray Time to sniff, in fear Of souls lingering wherein
Fingers beckon the day Grappling to hold, light Bold gestures threaten, night In between, the dingo is rightfulness Outsounding the breeze Of ire Wreaking havoc of the mind Awaiting senility
Life follows Songlines 