Eternal tourism

it is a room of people reading

silently

silently

by those sounds I

remember memories

glittering sweet

fanciful curves

eager gaze of blue

over light trill in voice

among benign slips of tongue

Mind you 'tis a dream now

a summit I'd like to touch

hoping to excite

together, together

in moments of swoons

what skin may be mine

is yours, ripe to heap

lifting more than spirit

as halves

aligned and bent

to rivet, combine

Dawn-come, hands clasped

traversing all of it

to an untold morning

hot off the presses

of lips on everything we've seen

Where plans change as desires update

When a new side of one's mind is found

When excitement shakes you so

It tells you where next to go

So you wrap up your project

Pack up your tools

To move on to the next best thing

I have loved, lost, and won. Partners and nests lovers in life shared Ones I would have wed called wife all prepared My loves, they left or perhaps I did to preserve the main core - our friendship That trust in a confidante that improbable spark we protect that familiar smile that we've cherished from the start

I've laid bricks my whole life. Rough and heavy yet near and dear. At last, my creation has a shape the modest outline of my imagination. This effort has been hard on me, pressure from within cracking my fingers' skin.

I hear my bones creak, feel my pipes burst. Had my veins been made of metal, not soft cells had my pump been powered by the sun, not its byproducts maybe I would have strength enough to finish this work. Though perhaps, were it so the work would mean less, in the end. A monk brews his tea with painstaking & blissful precision before stepping into the field, sitting under his chosen tree. A long moment of meditation that stretches from tea to tree. Preparation is key. Completion is not the lock. While one yearns, they ache. Hunger pains one and all. Satisfaction is also an ache. Completion is a pain so dull. I don't think my bricks will satisfy me, in the end. No. Yet I tiptoe around the notion. And go on with the effort. When a brick is laid I think for a moment: So far so good This far to go

How strange, to have coffee-stained teeth in a world without coffee or tea These luxuries for the sick hearts are gone now A life of avarice has left behind nothing but a legacy of lasting thirst.

Clouds of vapor, of smell, fill the old field before you. An aisle of wilted leaves between sullied grains remind you of bread, a memory now older than mold. Fill your makeshift cart with blemished rye hoping to eat it until you may cry from hollow relief and dare dream of surviving the winter without fur, without hair.

A photograph is made,

not just taken or printed.

We are not immaterial beings,

more like particles that observe particles.

Taking a moment is making a moment

as life is never blind to life.

When your turn to stand still comes,

Your picture taken, lending your frame to be framed

It is like filling your friend's bowl with rice or soup

They take you in, in your glorious friendliness

and the shared meal, a memory formed

will last longer than the light of today.

From wedding gown

to funeral dress

the observed moment becomes a bridge

when looking back

Tämä rihma, verkko, tuo suojaa

kun moderni muovi vie turvaa

käännän vaakatasoon akkunan kahvan

tuon kotiini tuulen, ruskan, mahlan

Carry me where you go

I see everything

but weigh nothing

Art within you

brought without

I follow your vision

completely devout.

I guide your path

and remind you tenderly

of where home remains

wherever you stay

Their mischief is friendly like a consentingly stolen kiss a deviance so dear sacred & kind just like we were

all those times

I melt into you

our oneness complete

and temporary

subject to fate's whim

.

neverlasting bonds

oh so vivid

and too lively

to rest

in

.

Must it be so that a soul

would stay restless

resting on condition

kept closed

behind partition, shielded

from the goals

and invitation

to join

shared life

.

The soul, of aether

immaterial and full

full enough

that to fit another

into the same space

is like a puzzle

made with grains of sand

numberless time

and two truths

Levitate a little longer the ground isn't ready Solemn, unserious like a sigh, a shroud Appear in front, or behind on all sides

remind the ones you love that you will never leave only disappear until

on niin ristiriidassa olemisen ja pysymisen kanssa.

Maasta loitompana, vuotta viisaampana kehomme tila, tuhottu tila

luodessa uutta hyljeksimme sitä hyvää toiminutta, kannatellutta, tervetullutta,

pian edesmennyttä

There we have it. The symphony is finished.

All elegant elegies, rhythms of daily shared moments, soft murmurs of the brass, tickling moments of plucked strings, heaviness beset by quiet.... where we reimagine poets, dramaturges, tragedies of greek tradition, comedies of roman Britannia....

This dramatic piece must today cease for the two lovers, our hero plus heroine. Commoners by trade, yet royalty to the other, shall separate their kingdoms in the impactful - final - movement that closes a door, ends the page, strikes the final key which means it is time

for solos.

These swan songs, in the time being, will not stay tuned

I scratch my head when the ghosts of the past, like holograms imposed, seem to represent truths yet they're only echoes of previous

values

of unrevised expressions. Exorcisms considered, only recalculations deliver, and we avoid the errors that divide those like us who strive to add our meaning into wisdom

for the benefit of the set that happens to include

us

Billions of years ago this planet began rotation,

and you enter my sphere with immeasurable momentum.

Your radiant oceans soothe my rough surface

milky way lotion

setting in motion my foundations as I sense

one deeply physical notion:

My softest core, hot and dormant

now it wells and swells

in your pull, in your orbit