Here´s a little thing I made last saturday night,
while babysitting...
Just took a few scraps with me, including a tiny
one dyed pinkish, with an old laundry tag, and
a page from an old book...
Wouldn´t have been bad to pack an overnight
bag instead and being
But that doesn´t seem to be on the agenda nowadays...
So what - there are other ways to gain
... stitching being one of them...
Are the days flying by as fast out there as they
do here...?
"There is no time
time is man's skin
it cracks and crackles and shrinks
in life's passing-by
in the fire of being
telling the hours
then letting them be
in the ever reverberating
moment of silence
in the smoking dance
of the evening star and the midnight sun
in the curl of the leaf
in the dove's swiftly
graceful and fluttered
gesture of dying
there is no time
time is the shooting
comet of recall
strewing heaven with the sparks
of stories no one will ever hear again
time's my love for you
the lizard movements
in your body that come and go
to fill the hollows
with the fire of telling
those many faces of departure
there is no time
just the pulse of the heart
as pain under eye-shells
just the emptied tell-skin
of this poem
splotched and measured
by cancer words of forgetting
like lizard shit"
(Breyten Breytenbach: There is no time)
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