A Collaborated Poem

I

Sometimes, the more you push
The less i budge -- its simple physics:
sagacity knows when to stop!
A forest of fallen angels
nothing
nothing
more improvised nothing
no! I don't want spicy tongues;
loud applause
or any recognition
Just leave me behind this curtain.

Don't tell me:
"you're too serious"
"you're too sensitive"
-- that makes me who I am.

II

Don't budge
I won't push
Everything is falling
Nothing is more still
Have everything,
have it all
and give it up
because the world we inherit
is not ours to control
only you can be the answers you seek
wait
be still
then invite all those questions
allow the rhythm in your heart to dictate these words
Remember than perfect place
where all is perfect

III

No movement
push and pull
falling is everything
everything dies.
Have nothing,
have everything
& hold on only to what is true
because the world we inherit
is in our minds.
We are not asleep
You are the answers I seek.
Silence
movement, response and applause and editing:
systole
diastole
words
perfection

IV

Give birth to the world I see
explore me in everything
silently.
Tears will rain in the memory of you
But I will never weep to wish them fall
for you.
I am all
there is colour amongst us watching
undisturbed
lost in ceasing to be anything
that grows with the breath of a single heart
telling a story
of how nothing is apart

V

I am still only pregnant
and find you in all the right places
silently,
silently.
Tears will love you
& be your friend
& I will weep for you to wish
upon shooting stars
for us.
I desires the hue of that
undisturbed colour
& it is in me somewhere
infinitesimally.
Ceasing to exist altogether
even as an idea.
What dies as the seed of a forest of trees
belongs deep in your heart
as your poetry
lived

VI

and living is but the song of a death long foretold
about the age of things never to be discovered
the beginning of you is where I end:
meeting the completion of wonders.
The touch of a star does more
than caress our eyes
It brings about the revelation
that is you
completely.
There is no after
and before was just a pause
that is now delivered to the soul
of the most insignificant love
that has it all.

(Stanzas I, III, V -- Ducksflymoon
              II, IV, VI -- Horacio Toulouse la Maga)

[14.02.11 -- Muswell Hill]