Monday, November 15, 2010

Insomnia

A sonnet:

While late at night turns into early day,
Languid darkness fading into blue,
I cannot seem to figure out a way
To train my mind toward anything but you.

The sky is lighter now, the world has shape
Dawn emerges from the Eastern sea.
And still you’ve not attempted to escape
My thoughts or any other part of me.

No matter how the decades will unfold,
This was never lost or wasted time.
Look back upon these days when you grow old,
And know our love, though fleeting, was sublime.

A stubborn silver clings onto the night
I’ll always miss this early morning light.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Kismet

Well isn't this curious ... I could truly not recall the last time I wrote on this blahg but felt inspired to get back into it having just returned from ... New Orleans. I guess it really is in my blood. In fact, we may spend a couple of months there after the new year, details to follow. It's hard to describe the city to those who've not yet been: mystical, magical, haunted, beautiful, sketchy, still falling apart in some places ... or to quote Mark Twain for the 100th time, "New Orleans is a beautiful woman with dirty fingernails."

I will post some photos from our most recent visit soon, and perhaps will take the ill-advised step of posting a video, too.

Neil + piano + me + devil horns - proper lyrics. You decide.

It's nice to be back here.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!