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crimsonzeitgei
29 June 2009 @ 01:54 pm














Early morning sunlight reflects off quiet houses
Of rust red terracotta and cool white,
Wrought Iron railings gates, campaniles
Standing proud, although their paint is worn
As they rise out of February water.

It dances on the top of that empty canal
A shining fish against the dark green
And plays in the shadows of gondola's,
Sleek and black with vibrant cushions,
All empty on that Venetian canal.
And I am alone.

Maybe they left me behind.
Maybe I didn’t care.
But the canal called to me
And it made me fall behind,
And I know that I will fall behind again.

I crave the solitude,
The quiet sound of dark ice water
I can only see it now.
Through the extension of memory;
A recollection of an almost silence
And the sound of dark ice water.

It calls me back
And I will follow the cold cold song
Like a sailor to a siren’s cry
Unable to resist
And not wanting to.

So when you find that place,
Listen for me, for I cannot always remain.
Listen for sound that my soul makes
When it spreads its arms and falls
With ice all around it
And drifts away on the canal
With a feeling of eternal bliss,
Caught forever in the frozen romance.

Of that dark water.

Tis my untold story ....






* I want to go back to Venice... *








 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: Antonio Vivaldi - Assaggio No. 1 in G Minor
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
28 June 2009 @ 03:48 pm










She plucks stones

from the fragrant earth,

says they are pieces

of her existance.

I look the other way.

At night, a single star;

The sky sparks her tears.

She calls them pearls, diamonds.

I call them lost children,

tiny run-aways.

She could have been a dancer,

the glowing queen of a ballet.

Instead she tangles with boys and

cigarettes;

I'am becoming her ashtray.






*Written in Spring 2002
I knew a girl just like this.
She seemed so lovely to
everyone else*



 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
28 June 2009 @ 03:44 pm






Under the oak tree they kissed
and her sweater was torn violently,
in a craving to be something else,
something other than a human.

Somehow, a kiss could do that; a kiss
could make them taste like fresh Jasmine,
and morning dreams. A kiss could make the
stars feel like sapphires in their palms,

If only they could open their eyes
and catch them. Pipe dreams, and dragon wings.

Despite herself, she stared at the sky,
stuck out her tongue to taste
the universe.





 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
28 June 2009 @ 03:37 pm











The tall teenage girl sat quietly on the park bench,

Inspecting her hands that folded neatly upon her lap.

A long, black skirt hung from her hips,

partially covering her pale skinny legs.

Her deep brown eyes were wide and curious,

but branded a hint of painful misery that

she seemed to desperately hide.

Her dark chocolate hair was pulled out of her square-ish face

in a high pony-tail that barely touched her back.

Her skin was a pale peach color,

not looking too unhealthy.

Her cheeks showed no sign of color though,

as if her blood had frozen in her veins.

A long-sleeved v-neck of the color of the bluest sky hugged

her stringy figure tightly.

A light hum flowed from her throat; a tune that produced nostalgia,

agony, and tranquility all at the same time. 

Later that evening she sat alone in a corner

of a dark smoke filled bar downtown,
 
inside her glass was a wasteland:

Vodka swirling around, the creepy

club's lights turning the toxic drink

neon greens, oranges,

red like flames.

Inside her palms were scrawled

boy's numbers ; wild man-like

creatures that inhaled whiskey,

cigars. They all ached heavily

to be her prelude.

Inside her mouth

a quieted voice, a hollowed

throat;

A lost note.







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Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
28 June 2009 @ 03:07 pm














You love to dance with the dead,
tango warm in the dark
and beguiling,
as your silken slippers
barely skim the night
under the willow spun moon.

You let them lead you
and pull you close
and gently trace
the blues of your face,
where stars hunt and steal
like shadow puppets.

You let them court you
like lovers
and bed you,
the intimate twitch
of your silk
parting under fingers
that beg to touch your memories.

You let them explore
and feast on
the mystery of your limbs
as they fall against the sky,
watching you move
like a ghost
out under the slippery elms,
plucking ragged fire
from your youth.






Picture: 'Dream Willow Moon Spun' 

Copyright © K.Lindstedt 2009






 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: discontent
Current Music: Violin Concerto Il Cimento Dell'armonia E - Antonio Vivaldi
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
23 June 2009 @ 04:00 pm










This accursed jewel, strapped around the neck,

choking in the deathly velvet silent night.

Prolonged is the nightly walk of which I must repeat.

Come for me, oh gracious one.

I call, knowing I will be never heard.

Silent is the voice of which I once commanded.

Numb is my body from the aftershock of life.

Human emotions dead faded into dust,

There is nothing of which I can find to fill the void inside of me.

Consumed by a force of which I do not know.

Painful are my memories of when I could still touch the world around me.

I push them away but they fly back at me, breaking me into pieces slowly.

Could I have not known what my afterlife would do to me?

My feet are silent as I walk through the stone, the one that holds my name.

The whispering voices of those who still may hear the alive world, they fill me with sadness and grief.

Upon the thresholds of my broken empty path, nothing grows but my sorrow.

Tis Elemental ...



*A short story about a lost soul
Vancouver BC Canada
Spring 2004*





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Current Location: Legana Tasmania Canada
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Enya
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
23 June 2009 @ 03:51 pm









On ivory keys hands like lovers lay
A gentle kiss before arching to play
Enticingly, the music strains so clear
That visions of lost days appear:


Sweet lilting notes drift up the stairs
And though he's young he's well aware
Such beauty in a song is rare.

And rarer still is she who plays
With passion far beyond her days
His heart is lost within her song
He aches to hold her in his arms.

Sweet melody that brought him near
To his true beloved dear
Now love and music fill his ears.


Across the keys now wrinkled hands run
A lonely dirge for now he has gone
At least in old age she still has this-
A song and memories of his kiss.


*Marakesh Marocco
2001*







 

 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
23 June 2009 @ 03:42 pm











A la lueur des bougies, Ô splendide Muse
Illumine mon cœur d'un grand amour candide
Ce n'est pas une jolie prose, belle Muse
Que je te propose mais une poésie

Une modeste poésie d'un plumitif
Qui te supplie de l'aider à écrire avec art
Consolatrice aide les artistes chétifs
Viens et reste avec mes côtés, protectrice des arts.

Ta beauté, Ô magnifique et sublime Muse
Est à la hauteur de tes dons artistiques,
Immenses, Immuables et talentueux que

J'aime autant que la divinité qui les use.
Je t'aime lumineuse étoile terrestre
Un amour pour moi a-t-il la chance de naître ?




*Pour Elodie
Monmatre Paris
France 2002*

 





 

 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
23 June 2009 @ 03:36 pm







A sadistic little bitch
with a vulture for a head,
she visits with me nightly
as I wait for her in my bed.

She conversates devinely
upon matters of the heart.
She smiles at me benignly
while she's ripping mine apart.

But then she offers back to me,
with talons sticky red,
a little chunk of wisdom,
in rhyming couplets said.

A remnant of a dream
from a soul that she has bled.
The bloody pulp of agony,
on which inspiration's fed.

She's a conscientious patron
as she shares with me her feast,
and imparts to me this wisdom, ....

"Those most poetic are deceased."




*December 2005

Can't sleep...vulture headed muse will eat me...O_O*







 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: cold
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
23 June 2009 @ 03:26 pm









My words, they flow, so silently
On a crested wave of soliloquy
My Muse, she guides my heart and soul
From broken shards that take their toll.

A tempest freed to chill the air
Of warmer days and love we share
Emotions claimed and secrets tossed
The torment comes of lover's lost.

Muse's are as Muse's be
hidden in my frail mentality
To scream in pain or laugh out loud
In lonliness or in midst a crowd.

We are no-one until we grow
The seeds of life of which we sow
Be it not as we hoped it would
Or see it how we see it should.

I struggle in my quest of hope
To shake and squirm,  to sigh and cope
Through brightest days of warmest sun
To chilling nights of cold,  the pain undone.

We make our own scenario
To stop the angst and make it go
My muse, her hand is placed in mine
To guide my steps within this rhyme.

 Aimlessly in time,  I know this still
A day is endless if kept against my will
So see I will with eyes open wide
No need to run,  no need to hide.

My Muse,  I bow to you once more
You give me hope, with strengths you bore
To pick me up when I am down
To bring a smile where was a frown

Stirring in my heart  I take
The gentle choices that I make
Living life, seeing as it should be seen
My muse, a memory or just a dream.




*She guides me to where I need to go.........

Venice Italy  
Spring 2003*




 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
23 June 2009 @ 03:17 pm









She is Cinnabar -

Blooming between lotus leaves

Stars rippling

Over her moon sharp face.

Under lanterns of rice paper,

the sarong of her mouth

cocooning me in bright red

like cherry blossom bombs.

Scattering the blue leaves and china silk.

That opens on my world.





 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
21 June 2009 @ 12:12 am









Undress my night
with soft supplications
poised between lips
that promise riots
and teach my heart
the fine art of mayhem.
Let your face be the candle
that breaks the dark
and slides the giddy stars
under my thumb
to have and hold
so I can trace them across your hips
where dreams beckon
and the night grows rude
with wanting.






*Written in Spring 2003, After my first viewing of
Titian's Reclining Venus Of Urbino
It's timeless beauty inspired this piece*









 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Rondo Veneziano
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
20 June 2009 @ 11:37 pm









The night moves like a surreal dream,
the wicked black of dark canals
coiled around a city
too lost in winter
and the dull haze of Chianti
to feel fever in the air.

It starts sweet and slow,
along the bridge of sighs,
low to the ground
catching the steady beat of congo
and calypso colors
off the cobbled streets
and pours into the city
like warm molasses, rum and indigo.

Young girls with cafe au lait eyes
slitted like jewels
under their satin and pearl masks
drape beads and baubles
on wrought iron gates
and catch kisses
from strangers in the street.

Scarlet devils with silver
on their tongues
and carnival hucksters
who slip gold
in their pockets
and conjure ghosts from mirrors
beckon to you,
their lips winking smiles,
their fingers dropping fortunes
in the Venetian dark.

And off of the square,
fog rolls in like lagniappe,
painting ghosts on tree tops
under a silver blue voodoo moon
that winks its lazy eye
and pops open stars like confetti
dressing the city
in spangled dreams of carnival.







 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Rondo Veneziano
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
20 June 2009 @ 11:27 pm









I feel the gentle winds of summer.

Go fickle.

Slowly changing directions
like lovers gone awry
and tumbling
in the arms of others.

As the hot pierce of sky
rolls back the afternoon
in hazy fingerprints
blistering the grass.

Nothing moves but my breath,
distilled air battering glass
and pushing into sallow
pressed down against the world
while clouds embank the horizon
with a murder of crows.

And the day singes
into a bottlefly green
like a spent match.

 






 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
20 June 2009 @ 11:14 pm











I can taste your walk

The wild thyme and honey of your legs

And sleek rub of silk

On inner thigh.

Where morning lingers like the gentle scent of

White Oleander and Jasmine. 





 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
17 June 2009 @ 02:22 pm









Winter haunts in roots of December,
crimson berries bursting on brown vines
and leaves mottled silver under foot.
It nestles on damp moss
and gathers brilliant white in beads of snow
that hang on glass where the air snaps clean,
slashes evergreen smiles in branches
and curls in smoke from distant chimneys.

It warms the blood in mulled wine
and cools the skin in the crisp bite
where frost takes away your breath
and children's bright cheeks
flame the gray dusk
that settles over farmhouses.
It smells of peat and toasted cake,
coals nestled in grates
and chestnuts sputtering open
in mittened hands and fingers.

It draws us home against the spangling sky
and settles back behind the windows
hiding under heavy quilts
and dark plaid blankets.

Where steam spills from cups of tea
and tangles with laughter and ghost stories.

It tucks us in and shivers under the door
spilling out under a silvered moon,
leaving us to nestle into each other
and spin dreams of soft, warm green summer meadows
And lazy summer days. 




 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: excited
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
17 June 2009 @ 02:15 pm







Summer dwindles and cools her heels in bamboo

and paper shoji courtyard corners.

Ducking behind cherry blossom trees

Counting scarlet leaves and harvest moons

In warm breaths off of the Pacific.

Ochre glints in the grass.

Where monarchs hold court

And dapple the air with new wings.

And in the distance, the hurdy gurdy fisherman

Kilters, truck careening, chasing down the dusk.

As children play tag through sprinklers in the dying light.

Mothers unpin ghosts from clothes lines.

And gather on porch swings.

To sip green tea and trade secrets.

While street lamps spark to attention

Their soft halos melting

Into mottled green and black.

Where fireflies vie for attention.

And pale white moths laze across spun gold....





*Kyoto, Japan

Spring 2007*





 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
17 June 2009 @ 02:11 pm








Her mouth tastes like Autumn -

Late harvest snap of winesap apples

Rich damson plums

Barleywine

And silver stars -

November aphrodisiac...




 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
17 June 2009 @ 02:00 pm











Do you remember the night.

We made sand castles in the dark.

And blew bubbles.

And watched kites skip and spin.

Under the new silver moon

And we lit sparklers

under the pier.

Where the fishermen

pulled in their copper nets

full of silver fish.

And drunks

cradled brown paper bags.

in their arms like wanton lovers.

And we counted stars.

And drank a vintage Chilean Sauvignon wine

Until we were dizzy.

And rode the ferris wheel

 Told stories

That made us laugh and cry.

Until we went weak

In the knees.

And you kissed me hard.

And tasted like sin and apples.

And I undressed your heart.

And we made love in the sand.

Until we could not move

And I promised I would never leave....







*Giants Causeway

County Antrim, Northern Ireland, UK.

October 2000

For Deirdra*



 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: bouncy
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
crimsonzeitgei
17 June 2009 @ 01:52 pm







He is a solitary hunter
who steals the light of the silver moon
and taints your nightmares gorgeous.

He shows you colors caught in prisms,
images that disturb what is forbidden,
that get under the silk of your skin.

And let you discover your unseen world
spun in tapestries and stained glass.
He takes the words off your lips,
making them his own -

The secrets hidden in the well of souls -
to paint the sky, his only witness
to unspeakable crimes of the heart
as you follow the tangled threads of seduction.

He has so cleverly laid out for you.
He has bought and sold you,
laid out the robes of rich desire
upon a bed of dreams held fast
by a canopy and veil of stars.

His lips implore you for more.
They seek confessions, transgressions
and dangerous promises, spilled from a tongue
grown heady and thick with wine.

As he unravels your heart and mind
in the garments that pool at your feet
undone one by one by his deft fingers
leaving your fragile heart of darkness
the object of his obsession.

But he is forever not yours.




 
 
Current Location: Legana Tasmania Australia
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Vangelis
 
 
 
 

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