Thinking of You in the Grey Blue

imageTravelling in the grey grey blue,

The light is dark
And
A column of tears is
hanging overhead.
Travelling in the grey, grey blue, just thinking of you
Am I as good as dead?
Traveling on the grey grey blue
The days are passing and there’s nothing new;
No news
No sun, no shine
only grey, grey blue,
I’ve got the grey grey blue
Just thinking
Of you.
You didn’t tell me when
You’re coming back.
You left so matter of fact,
left me half asleep and half awake;
Can’t take this heartache
Got the grey, grey blue,
Just waiting for you.
Wondering if
and when
you’re ever coming back
I got the grey, grey blue just thinking
Of you.
You said you’d never leave,
Said I’d never have to grieve,
But here I am.
You left me In the grey grey blue – promises untrue.
Wondering if and when
you’re coming back
I got the grey grey blue just thinking
Of you.
I’m just travelling through,
That grey, grey blue just
Thinking of you.

Bushman’s Hallelujah

Bushman’s Hallelujah

The percussive beat

rolls on,

non stop in the night,

a quick pitter patting

of an excited heart,

a bushman’s hallelujah

The percussive beat

rolls on,

non stop in the night,

a quick pitter patting

of an excited heart,

a bushman’s hallelujah .

The beat slowed down

like water drops

running out

that dropped

progressively slower

to faint

and quiet beats,

that fade.

Dead silence

In the night

replaced them.

Planes landed .

Lights in windows

turned on ,

and silently

life continued

in them .

From “Ruminations Of The Dead” by PWChaltas

City

Image

Urbane

City
Surrounded by concrete,
lights,
and a crescent moon,
the obsolescence
of hearts confounds.
The milquetoast of regret
seizes,
and shattered glass
repentance
cuts a tear
of cerium oxide rust
in the soul.
It’s imperfect with
the screech of feather
cutting air,
as crackpots entertain
trained monkeys
on bandwidths,
while we engage
in the urbane .

From “Persephone’s Call” by PWChaltas