Absinthe Cloud
By: Xaviere Posted on: April 29, 2004
Now it is time, my love,
For us to lie back and smile at skies above,
Like a victim sweetly delphinised...
It is time, time to go to eternal retreats
Down the road
And up the lane
Past grizzled pawn shops and morbid plants
And tasteless meals at restaurants;
The people watch from frosty windows,
Clouded eyes like a stagnant whirlpool
Sucking us up
Into a world of fantasies,
But our disease is not yet caught,
Now it is time to watch your thought.
How your glaze has a phosphorescent glow…
Do you like the colours of the rainbow?
The pipeweed dream that shivers across the hearth-rug,
The crackling memories that scorch the milk jug
Flapped their wings and slipped into the dusk,
Floated near the flames that watch the moon,
Singe the rays that trickle off the roof slates of buildings,
Flutter over the railings, with one more creep,
But almost forgetting the deepest time of night,
Slid down the candlestick, and collapsed in a heap.
But there always is a moment
For the pipeweed dream that slips beside the walls
Shivering across the hearth-rug
And snatches you by the head;
But you must wait, my love, until the cry
Of phosphorus thoughts finds your mind;
Wait for the time to lose your faith,
To submerge yourself in a pool of wonder
Or fade to despair as a miserable wraith;
Hold your hand and mine as well,
And time now to reach tip-top precision
And for a deliciously mindless vision,
As we take two for tea.
Quieten down for the final time,
Losing overgrown paths in Ithmian shades...
There is no longer a moment
To reflect upon the ethics of formality;
Time to drop into silent brevity,
With a square-cut jewel firm at hand -
["How your eyes are glazed!"] Now your glass is taut and raised,
Time to pour infinity as they praised -
["But how you look unhealthily dazed…"]
Fall down the hole
To exotic climes;
Stay calm, my love, don't struggle like that
Or the vision creeps closer to love you more...
How your glaze has a phosphorescent glow…
Do you like the colours of the rainbow?
Each dip is different, different sights -
Murmurs from dusk to dawn with twilight stars,
Our hearts are melted over silver bars;
The wail of the widow who has just become
Is muffled under a grassy pall...
Can you see the shallow green fields?
Red and gold sparkles, flickering each night -
The eyes that transfix you in iridescent seduction,
And when I am seduced, dragging me under,
Clasping me tight with arms all around me,
I am now their plunder
Lost to the one only in delicate dreams...
Can you feel her angelicate wings?
And there is the lake, the lake where no one swims -
Dark waters that ebb and flow in passes
[But suck you deep down, in waves of molasses!]
Who is the swan that does glide
Sporting Her sleek sable pride?
Wings that caress my mouth, and stroke my eyes...
Can you hear the tangerine crash?
Can you hear the lime green call?
Let us wander through an endless labyrinth
And let jaded rain drip from the ceiling
Or just tumble in circles round and round and round...?
Once I dreamt I stood in a desolate grey room
Juggling swords for my dead mother.
And then to doze like Deucalion Himself,
To catch my hair along your fingers,
Every ethereal touch... or pause... still lingers,
Hovering across the field, above your arms -
Are you asleep, my love, or would you like some more,
Do you have the stamina before you crawl on the floor?
My eyes are running, running to the horizon,
As I seem to be standing on a beach [with bare feet] staring at the sea,
And her head peers at me from a blue-green tree;
The world spins round leaving me reeling,
And I spy the Fairy's viridian nails beckon, sitting on the ceiling,
Lie back and skim the stars.
And after, my love, you walked the edge of Tarot cards,
After the pipeweed dream, the tea, the cream,
Lapping the milk, after some smouldering banter of what was seen,
Perhaps it was wiser to wait a while
Before biting the sun down to the tile,
To blow up the world into a balloon,
To rise from the grave to tell your tale,
"I forgot to say this word
Which I shall say." -
Just sleeping, pillowed by an absinthe cloud,
And whisper: "Can you see her candystriped eyes?
Can you see the pools?"
And after, my love, you slid down mountains of cheese,
Perhaps it was best not to smile,
After the railings and roofs and all dusty drainpipes,
Past the candles, past the moon, past collars that you just kissed -
But what was it that we missed? -
Are you asleep, my love? Quite impossible to tell!
Your feelings played out on the municipal bell;
Perhaps it was richer to keep your guile
Just sleeping, pillowed by an absinthe cloud,
Then turning to face the grave, and murmur:
"Can you see her candystriped eyes?
Can you see the pools?"
Follow her down to the bottom of the sea;
A purblind entourage is what you find
For a misty princess that is not truthfully kind,
To meet the queen, climb up the pole,
And tumble round and round and round...
Excruciating, plain and hideous;
Sinking downwards in sticky abuse;
Sometimes, simply tedious -
And disintegration of the soul.
It creeps closer... creeping now...
You shall meet the curtain with a final bow.
Does the widow still scream? Do you want to stay?
It is time, my love, to drown in the deep green bay.
The seals applaud until the death of the day.
I thought you dead while you slept, and sleeping when you were dead.
I have seen her singing on porpoises' flukes
And charming the seahorses with her emerald foam
Frothy shades of memories in monochrome.
I am treading the path of dreams
Surrounded by other voices in shades of jade
I am asleep until I fade.