My wish is to make one song
and make it beautiful as a painting
remembering the phases when nothing was born
now thinking of a flaming face as so
wondering how to paint a voice,
gently quietly with cottony strokes
to sketch on a paper with cursive letters
the chorus that I hum at night
beatrest, everything in place
in the morning sun with hair resting on shoulder
blondly running through my fingers
like a million never ending golden "Tonava's"
sorry you have to dangle in to these metaphors
they stagger beside you
that won't happen again
when the painting is finished the poet will leave
if you're gonna be with me like the ending beat
if I could ever
paint a painting
I would paint you into it
if I could ever
make a song
it would be about you
if I may?
and I do, can make a painting
I'm gonna make it as beautiful as a song
I'm gonna paint the days with darkness and light
for years in my secret barn
the boys are painting metaphors into windows
shining portrait of an icon
into the fabric I'll paint small lips
to the world, I smile about the red of the wine
I'm sitting in a flower-tailed summerdress
the yellows-of-the-sun are gonna sunk the iris,
the globe from the mercy of your strength
a little bit white for the sincerety
heavens worth of blue for your sorrows
black on the edges in the name of balance
palette in hands, a cassette in the clouds
all the colors and the world in your eyes
if I ever could
paint a painting
I would paint you in it
if I ever could
make a song
it would be about you
fingers in the paint all around
travel with the word of the elite
seventh skateboard of july
I'm gonna draw you a trumpet
if I ever could
paint a painting
I would paint you in it
if I ever could
make a song
it would be about you