they just won’t stop
I wake up exhausted
at all hours
when sleep should be a priority
but these dreams don’t listen
causing associations
dreaming creates
in these movies
in my head
people come go
time shifts now then
and you a star
in my sleep
in my brain
as I play a supporting part
to you in dreams
I wish would be
reality
Author: zdunno03
revisiting Paul Blackburn
like an old friend
with stories to tell
we sit together
remembering our past
associations
both together
and apart
we never met
but knew each other intimately
what you wrote spoke to me
and I read you
a connection was made
though years apart
having made your acquaintance
after your death
a miscalculation on my part
but you still speak
to me now
through your work
I carry
in every household I’ve lived
you have been there
and from time to time
like say now
I open you up
and continue the conversations
forever grateful
for having you
in my life
REMAINS OF AN AFTERNOON by Paul Blackburn
Flick of perfume, slight, and faintly bitter
on my wrist, where her hand had rested
Two wrist-bones and the soft thud of veins
printed on the hard flesh of her palm
The drinks
finished but untasted
CIAO by Paul Blackburn
I’m sorry
life was tranquil (sort of)
then
‘when you lifted but the glove of one white hand’
etcetera
THIS COULDN’T HAPPEN AGAIN by Paul Blackburn
the heavy pressure
of the presence of your body in the room
moving
O love,
is the end of my
imaginings
this late afternoon
feeling again at this window
the sensation of weight received
in that displacement
the small waves
lapping against me
constantly
unexpected treasures: a tanka
treasures that we seek
often not what we expect
come unfamilar
in wrapping strange to our eyes
though there are wonders inside
when you speak
there’s a way you have of talking
a familiar sound of words together
and I know I should listen
when you speak
but I‘m too busy
watching your mouth
to avoid staring in your eyes
so as not to be lost
in their depth
only trying not to get lost
gets me lost
and whatever you say
skips over my head
like some stone
thrown by some kid
on a lake
and off I go
skimming on water
until I sink
lost forever
in you
Fluvial by Paul Blackburn
She took off her clothes so
naturally, so quickly, you
knew she didn’t belong in them.
. . . . .The habit of unself
. . . . .consciousness is one
. . . . . . . . . . . . .must be acquired,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .however.
South Of Barcelona by Paul Blackburn
Early morning birdsong
grey sky and chickens and rain
across the plain
tho chickens can hardly be said to sing
their sound is comforting
& homely.
The mountains inland disappear
The clouds come down.
on snow
ıt’s snowing where I was
but sunny and warm where I am
this leads me to think
life is better here
but we shouldn’t judge places
ordinarily by the weather
just as we shouldn’t judge people
solely by appearance
and so I find
for once in my life
I miss snow
Leonard Durso 